‘Fuck!’ Amy shivered. She bent and groped at the helmet at her feet, fingers wandering blindly until she found the light strapped to its front. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’
‘Move out!’ the Soldier barked. He turned and began jogging.
Chapter 40
‘OH MY GOD.’ Amy’s hands were numb, her blood rushing through her head, loud between her ears. ‘Oh my God. Oh my God.’
Her own words from earlier that day came back to her.
Tell me she’s not down one of those holes.
Her throat was tight, but she wouldn’t let the tears overwhelm her now. Whatever had happened to Tori down here, it wasn’t going to happen to her.
She twisted the light on the helmet and threw it on her head. The tunnel before her sank into blackness as the light trembled on the walls. Thoughts flew through her mind, visions of what it would be like if one of the braces slipped and mud slid through the tunnel in a great wall, knocking her down, filling her lungs, burying her forever.
She ran, now and then skidding to a halt as she thought she spied a hole in her path. Without warning the blackness in front of her split and she was faced with a fork. He’d said nothing about a fork.
‘Prick,’ she seethed. ‘Fucking prick.’
The anger pulsed in her, and she turned, looking back into the nothingness from which she’d come.
‘I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you!’
Nothing there. No sound but her own frantic breath.
Amy sprinted into the left tunnel. The earth rose here. Inch by inch, she was moving towards the surface, towards safety.
She heard a pop, and her arm flew out. There was no pain, only a hard tug, and the last two fingers of her hand were gone. She glanced at the place where they had been and ran on, focused. Another pop, and she was knocked sideways as a bullet nicked her hip. She looked back, saw a flash, and heard the bullet sail past her.
In the tunnel up ahead, a shape. A milk crate, a large rifle resting on its surface. An offering. She leapt forward.
Chapter 41
HE FOLLOWED CALMLY as she seized the weapon. She’d used one before. She knelt and actioned the rifle, turned and fired a spray of bullets into the dark.
The Soldier ducked, smiled at the effort. Far too high. Amy threw herself into the opening to the right. He turned the corner in time to see her looking up the muddy rise. Light from the main entrance to the mine was dancing on the roof of the tunnel as people moved back and forth across it.
The Soldier felt his features set, his eyes narrow in a frown. He dropped a knee, aimed and fired. Amy stumbled and fell as the bullet smashed her left knee.
‘Help! Someone help!’
He walked forward and grabbed her ankle, not ready for the moment she twisted in his grip. She swung the butt of her rifle and cracked it into the side of his head, bringing red lights at the corners of his vision. It wasn’t enough. He dragged her backwards into the dark as her scream rose up around the tunnel walls.
Chapter 42
I FOUND WHITT in the rec room, sitting down to one of the flavoured lattes he had brought to the camp in little sachets. I’d left him sleeping and taken a long walk around the mine that morning, seeing it from all sides, the huge centre crane seeming to follow me like the eyes of a portrait.
The rec room consisted of two demountable buildings that had been joined together to create a wide space that featured a gym with plenty of free weights, and a couch area for relaxing and reading. Some miners were working out on the gym equipment, while a healthy crowd was gathered around a huge television set in the couch area where a video game was being played. The crowd cheered as one of the pair on the couches scored, but I couldn’t see the game over the shoulders of the miners.
There was a boxing bag hanging in the corner. I felt a little zing of excitement at the familiar cracks and creases in the red leather.
‘Morning,’ Whitt said carefully as I sat down beside him.
‘Morning, partner. Ready to catch this guy today?’
‘I’m certainly going to give it my best,’ he said. ‘I’ve just got off the phone with Hon’s parents. They want to fly out here, but I told them it wasn’t a good idea. They’re not going to do anything but get in the way.’
‘They’re going to learn that their son made no mark here,’ I said. ‘That there’s not so much as an odd sock left over to say he ever visited this place.’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Your cheerfulness has returned.’
‘I’m bothered by that, Whitt. I’m bothered that there’s nothing left of these people. It’s like they were erased.’
‘This whole mine’s going to be erased when the ore runs out,’ he said. ‘They’ll pick the place up and move the entire thing on to the next spot. The winds will blow in and cover the tunnels and fill in the holes and bury the equipment they leave behind. They’re like gypsies.’
‘I hate it,’ I said. I really did – all the uncertainty, the ticking clock running down to pack-up time. It reminded me of my childhood.
‘What do we know about Amy and Tori’s parents?’ he asked.
‘I made some calls this morning chasing that up. Amy and Tori’s father is a widower. The two girls took him to court and got an Apprehended Violence Order in 2011 when he tried to mow Amy down with his car. They’ve been on the run from him since then.’
‘He’s not a possible suspect, is he? Does he know where they are?’
‘By all accounts, no,’ I said. ‘He’s on a fishing boat in Cairns. He’s still next of kin, so Queensland police informed him that Tori’s missing. He had nothing to offer that would help.’
A silence fell between us, and the tension that had risen the evening before seemed to swell. Words unsaid played on my lips. Whitt was looking at his phone.
‘Hon’s parents said the last time they spoke to him was on his monthly call,’ he explained. ‘Hon always calls on the first of the month. I’m the same. Only it’s weekly. My mother’s always waiting for the phone to ring Monday night at six.’
He looked sad. A rare moment of vulnerability. I watched him carefully.
‘My brother is Samuel Jacob Blue,’ I blurted out.
Chapter 43
I LOOKED FOR that sparkle of recognition in his eyes, an instant flash before he suppressed and disguised his knowledge. There wasn’t one. For a moment, I could believe he knew nothing at all about my brother.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t . . .’ He shrugged.
‘The Georges River Killer.’
Whitt’s frown deepened.
‘Well, that’s what the papers are calling him, anyway.’ I sipped his latte. ‘If you ask me, he’s got nothing to do with it.’
I let the fact that Whitt ran from any form of news remain unspoken and unexplained between us. Instead, I told him about the morning in Sydney that I’d learned Sam was going to be hauled in as one of the nation’s most savage serial killers. Once I had begun, the words seemed to fall out of me. I gave up everything, hardly looking at him as I spoke. If Whitt was spying on me for my colleagues back in Sydney, he was now hearing direct from my mouth that I was shocked and appalled by what they were saying. The accusation was as much a surprise to me as anyone.
‘We had rough childhoods,’ I said. ‘We bounced around foster homes until Sam was old enough to be my legal guardian. The media is making a feast of that now to try to explain what went wrong with him.’
‘What they think went wrong with him, you mean,’ Whitt said. ‘There’s nothing wrong with him by your account.’
‘Well,’ I began. I stopped. The momentum of my confession had been so strong now new thoughts were coming up, and I could hardly tell what they would be before they were out.
‘Well, what?’
‘I saw some stuff on the case wall in Sydney,’ I said. ‘Photographs of the inside of his apartment. The stuff they found. Things keep coming back to me, too, about our lives. There were foster fathers who were tough on him. Beat him, sometimes. I
don’t know what else. He’s always had a quick temper. He’s always been . . . secretive. We were a great team, you know?’
He nodded.
‘We needed to be a team, to survive. But there has always been a small part of him locked away from me. I could tell. There was something there, some part of him I could never get to. But isn’t that the same with everyone?’
Whitt was listening intently. Half of me couldn’t believe I was being this honest with him. The other half felt such awesome release at saying the words out loud, seeing where they went.
‘How can I think like this?’ I asked.
‘You’re thinking like anyone in your situation would,’ Whitt said after a time. ‘You’re confused. Anyone would be confused.’
We looked at each other, and inevitably my old wall started to come up again. Alerts were ringing in my brain. Opening up was dangerous. I’d done too much damage already, and now my instincts were kicking in.
‘Alright,’ I said, standing up sharply. ‘We don’t have time for deep-and-meaningfuls. Get up, and let’s go see Amy again. See if she remembers anything, now that she’s had some time to think.’
I left without waiting for Whitt to follow.
Chapter 44
WHITT AND I turned the corner outside Amy’s donga and almost ran right into Richie and a decidedly unhappy-looking young miner, who were standing there in the morning light. Richie’s black eye was very dark, rimmed in the sick yellow of a healing bruise. His miner friend stiffened at the sight of us and shuffled off, seeming to take the opportunity to get out of a sticky situation.
‘That didn’t look like a very friendly exchange.’ I nodded at the retreating miner. ‘Bad debts?’
‘Why don’t you mind your business, Bluebird, and I’ll mind mine.’
‘Must be a rough gig. You can’t rely on those junkies.’
‘What?’ Richie snorted. ‘Is this where I go rattling off about my drug clients and the ins and outs of my work so you can snap it all up on tape? Sounds like you’re the one who needs schooling.’
‘We’re not taping you,’ Whitt said.
‘This whole operation has been very sloppy,’ Richie sneered at me. ‘The cover story about the missing miners. Obvious bullshit. You’ve been right on my tail since the moment you arrived. Well, here I am, sweetheart. Check me out all you want; I’m not a drug dealer.’
I laughed, hard.
‘I’m not.’ Richie shrugged his narrow shoulders. ‘You can believe the rumours, if you want. You’ll be wasting your time. I’m a freelance goods trader, and I specialise in entertainment.’
He whipped a catalogue out of his back pocket and thrust it at my chest. I browsed hundreds of titles of DVDs.
‘Movies, games, consoles, books, magazines,’ he counted on his fingers. ‘I can get you foreign titles, rare titles and adults-only titles within twenty-four hours. I’ve got pre-paid internet cards, phone cards, credit cards, mobile phones. I also have contacts in adults-only live action entertainment.’
‘It’s a great cover story.’ Whitt patted him on the shoulder.
‘It’s not a cover story. I can show you pay slips.’
I ran a finger over the catalogue and examined a fine white dust in the sunlight. The two men watched me.
‘Is this cocaine?’ I asked. Richie swallowed. I dabbed the powder on my tongue and rubbed some onto my gums. ‘Sure tastes like cocaine.’
‘It was a commendable effort.’ Whitt patted Richie again.
‘Since you’re such a magnificent mover and shaker in the merchandise trade on the mine, maybe you can tell us if anyone has been shuffling these items around.’ I took my notebook from my back pocket. ‘A black iPhone in a blue case, belonging to Danny Stanton. A white iPhone in a pink case, belonging to Tori King. A tablet, silver, possibly an iPad, belonging to Hon –’
‘I wouldn’t know about any of that stuff.’ Richie waved a dismissive hand. ‘I missed the pickings on all of those. That’s why I’m here bright and early today to get Amy’s stuff. Someone said she’s got a new laptop.’
‘Amy?’ I glanced at Whitt. ‘Amy King?’
‘Yes, Amy King.’ Richie gestured to the donga beside us. ‘I got the lowdown. She missed her shift last night, and no one’s seen her. Missed rollcall this morning, too. My contact’s about to turn up and tell me if she checked in at her shift this morning. I heard she’s taken off to Darwin to find her sister, so if that damn laptop’s there, it’s mine.’
I shoved Richie out of the way and ran up the steps into the demountable. Amy’s section was messy, except for the bed, which was tightly made. A plastic bag by the windowsill caught my attention, and I went there, lifted two takeaway boxes out into the light. Pub food. The lid was off the top box, and a plastic fork lay on the floor. The receipt at the bottom of the bag read a purchase time of 18.37. She’d bought dinner to keep her going through her night shift. She’d come home, opened the first box . . . and something had happened to her.
Someone had been lying in wait.
Chapter 45
WHITT FOLLOWED ME into the chow hall, his phone pressed to his ear as he reported Amy missing to his boss in Perth.
I found Gabe Carter putting on his hard hat and gathering his empty plate and cutlery.
‘Amy’s gone,’ I said breathlessly. ‘I want a full search of the mine. All the miners need to be called out and accounted for. How do I get one of those alerts going?’
‘Wait – what?’ Gabe shook his head. ‘Amy King, you mean?’
‘She’s gone!’
‘How do you know?’
‘Just fucking trust me,’ I snapped. ‘Who do I see about a search party out in the desert?’
My face was flushed, my neck burned – the familiar sensation of extreme guilt. Had talking to Amy out in the open put her in danger? Whoever the killer was, had he seen her walking us out of the mine? Had he deemed Amy a threat?
Who had been there in those moments? There had been dozens of miners walking in and out, driving trucks, working in the tunnels that ran off the sides of the main vein. I couldn’t remember anyone specific, anyone who had already piqued my curiosity.
I realised I was cracking my aching knuckles, staring into space.
‘OK. Perth headquarters know she’s missing now.’ Whitt hung up his phone. ‘They’re going to see what her phone and accounts are doing and put out a BOLO in and around Perth. But they won’t send a chopper until we get confirmation she’s not on the mine. Failing that, they’ll take a request from the mine bosses.’
‘Good luck with that,’ Gabe said. ‘You’re not going to get the bosses to empty the mine or send out a search party. This place shuts down, you’re talking tens of thousands of dollars in losses per hour.’
‘Let’s just keep our heads,’ I told Whitt, talking more to myself than to him. ‘She could still be here.’
‘Those King girls, they were out at the EarthSoldier camp now and then, as I recall,’ Gabe said. ‘When the camp weed was low a few people used to go out there. Made friends with them, sort of. I know Tori used to go. Maybe Amy went to question them.’
‘Right,’ I said, turning to Whitt. ‘We’ve got to go see them. If she’s not on the camp, I want to know she’s not nearby either.’
‘I’ll go into town, see if anyone’s seen her there,’ Gabe offered. ‘I’ll get someone to cover my shift. If you guys go into the desert, don’t be stupid.’ Gabe pointed at me. ‘Take a satellite phone, and a hat, sunscreen and water. Lots of water. The EarthSoldiers’ camp won’t be far, but it’s serious out there. We don’t need anyone else getting lost.’
Chapter 46
I JOGGED BACK to the demountable to change my boots and grab sunscreen, my heart still hammering in my chest. I needed to get a hold of myself. It was entirely possible Amy was still on the mine somewhere, that we’d meet her on the way back from the EarthSoldiers’ camp, a sudden urge to speak to them having overtaken her the night before in the midst of unpacking he
r dinner. It didn’t make any sense. But all I could do was look for her, and if I didn’t find her, I’d panic then.
As I entered our donga, a loudspeaker announcement sounded somewhere nearby, preceded by shrill musical tones.
‘Amy King, please report to the administration office immediately. Amy King, please report to the administration office immediately.’
I stopped just inside the doorway to mine and Whitt’s section. On the window, the huntsman spider had been smashed to death, its hairy legs adhered to the glass by the sticky yellow of its innards. I felt revulsion swell up in me.
‘Whitt!’ I whirled around, hearing him walking up the stairs of the donga.
‘Yes?’
‘You killed the fucking spider?’ I could hear the horror in my own voice. There was a pause as he tried to understand what I was saying. He rounded the corner, his brow furrowed.
‘Huh?’
‘The spider, you arsehole.’ I gestured to the mess on the window. ‘What’d you do that for? You know they’re harmless, right?’
‘Oh no.’ He baulked at the sight of it on the glass. ‘Yes, I’ve seen it getting around the room. It was on the ceiling last night. I’ve rather been getting to enjoy its company. It was like a weird little pet.’
‘So why the fuck did you kill it?’
‘I didn’t! I didn’t do this, are you crazy?’
‘What, so someone else came in here and smashed it all over the window and just left it for us to find?’
‘It seems so.’ He shrugged.
I went to my bed and started unlacing my boots while he stared at the spider. It was so strange for him to talk about the thing in exactly the sense I’d been thinking about it – a mild enjoyment in a hard world, a quirky little pet. But I didn’t believe anyone else would have come into our room and hung around long enough to notice the thing and hunt it down. Why would anyone come into our room at all? There was nothing here of value or interest.