Alison was bone-tired. She stumbled and fell, crying out as her ankle gave way beneath her. The day was getting old, and she was a total wreck. As she tried to find her way out of the bush, she kept running it through her mind. The moment he’d stepped backward, the way it had sounded when he landed, the look in his eyes. The shock, the beating of her own heart so hard that she could feel it, like her heart was trying to claw its way out of her chest. There was so much death already, so much pain and destruction, and exhaustion. She hadn’t meant to leave him there, but her sense of self-preservation had kicked in. She was so tired.
As she trudged along, following the flow of the creek, she tried to pull herself back together. There was something else in the space of her chest now, a fluttering, nervous kind of hope. Could it be that easy? Gil was trapped and injured, left for dead. If she didn’t tell anyone, that would be it. He would die and she would be free. She felt the bile rise, and she coughed up the lining of her stomach again, thinking about how it would feel to know it was her fault someone else was dead. There had already been too much death. She didn’t want to be a part of any more.
The creek widened out on a low, flat sweep and she recognized the familiar slope up to the tree line behind the town. She was almost back where she knew the lay of the land. She scrambled up an embankment and popped up near the highway where it wound into town from Melbourne. Not far from the spot where her parents had died. She walked on. Her phone started to ping and she realized it had reception again.
Messages. Billy, Sal, Pat. Detective Mitchell had called three times. Chris Waters. Everyone wanting to know where she was. She dialed Billy. He picked up on the first ring.
“Shit, Alison, are you OK?”
She was going to say yes. She was going to make something up. She was going to keep it all, let the bush claim its secrets. But she didn’t. She didn’t even know why, but before she could stop herself, she was telling Billy everything. From the text with his name tag to the way Gil had looked writhing on the ground.
“Stay there, Al, I’ll get the SES on it, we’ll find him. I’m coming to get you now.” She didn’t argue with him; she didn’t have the energy to even try.
The sound of water rushing let them know they weren’t far off. It was hot. A sticky, humid day. They’d left early for this hike, but the sun was relentless even at this hour. Gil was ten steps ahead and constantly turning back to make sure Alison was keeping pace. She was trying. But she didn’t love hiking; she’d agreed to it because he wanted to. On and on he’d gone about Emerald Creek Falls. His favorite place, he’d told her.
When they broke through to the water hole, he whooped at the sight of it, rushing her along the path and ushering her toward the granite rocks that made a shore. She took it in, lush greenery, rushing water, a sparkling pool of brown-green. It was beautiful, absolutely. They weren’t the only ones there, but Gil guided her away from the big main pool, toward a series of smaller ones, a little way away from the other early risers. They stripped down to their swimmers and Alison gladly plunged her body into the warm, refreshing water. Gil pulled her in close to him, his broad, handsome face illuminated by the light reflecting off the water.
It felt good here, in his arms, in this place. Everything about them was still new, the way he smelled and sounded, the hardness of his edges, the softness of his lips, the look in his eyes when he took her in. She kissed him, and he returned it with passion. He broke away from her lips to kiss her neck, and she laughed as his lips fluttered along the sensitive curve of it.
“It’s beautiful here.” She stopped him before he went too far.
“I told you.”
“You did. You were right.”
“Mum used to bring us here, when we were little.”
Alison looked at him, thought she caught a glimpse of something dark, brooding, but it was gone in an instant. “It’s wonderful.” She pulled him into her, laid his head on her chest, felt his breath on her breast. A flock of rainbow lorikeets stretched out across the blue above. “Should we be worried about crocs?”
“Nah, we’re all right here.” He was so close to her, she could count the pores on his cheeks. His breath was scented with orange and tobacco. “You ever seen one in the flesh?”
Alison shook her head. “Just at the zoo.”
“Scary motherfuckers. I was out fishing with the guys—we saw one, it snapped up an ibis from the shore. Blink of an eye and bam—not even a feather left. I read somewhere that their jaw is like one of those animal traps—you know, the ones you see on American TV or whatever, the big steel ones that snap closed on a bear’s leg? Once they latch onto you, it’s virtually impossible to get them to unlock their jaw and let you go. They hold on to their prey until they drown. Drag them down into the water and roll them around. Those giant teeth holding on until there’s no life left. Strongest bite in the world.”
As he spoke, Gil became more and more animated, like a kid who had just discovered dinosaurs, which, Alison supposed, was kind of the case when it came to crocodiles. She laughed at his enthusiasm. “Are you trying to terrify me?”
He looked her in the eyes; intense. “If I wanted to terrify you, you’d know.”
The moment passed so quickly, she wasn’t sure it had happened. The way he’d said it. The flash of something unsettling in his gaze—fury, maybe? And then that cheeky smile again, the charming twinkle. He gently bit her neck, and then, arms wrapped around her tightly, he playfully rolled her around in the water.
“Don’t think I’ll ever let you go, now I’ve got you.” He kissed her and Alison felt an overwhelming bloom of desire. The pools stretched out before them as the sun rose higher in the sky and day-tripping tourists began to fill up the space. One perfect moment, and the trap was set.
It was almost dark out when the search party got back to the police station. They looked beat. Alison looked to Billy for some kind of news, and he shook his head.
“Well?” she asked, impatient.
“He wasn’t there. We found the spot, his blood on the ground, on the rocks, but it looks like he climbed out of there. We tried to track him, but the creek goes deep into the bush there, and it appears he was wading in it.”
“Why did you stop looking?” Alison asked, panicked.
“There’s another fire up on the other side of the ridge. It was under control for most of the day but it broke containment about an hour ago. Not safe to be out there. These conditions are just making it worse.”
“So he’s out there, and you can’t find him?” Alison thought she had already lived the worst scenario, but this—this was the worst scenario.
“We will. We just have to wait for the fireys to get things under control. Then we can go back out.”
Alison tried to contain her frustration. How was this even possible? How was he alive? The man was a cockroach. Apparently unextinguishable.
“Can I take you home?” Billy asked, gentle.
“I—I’m staying at the Imperial. It’s across the street; I can walk.”
“You sure?”
She told him she was, and then she left. Outside, the sky was orange-black again. Another fire, another soot-filled evening. She legged it across to the pub. On the floor under her door, a piece of paper.
Alison, heard about your run-in with Gil. Would love to talk to you about it. Chris.
She balled the paper up and threw it in the bin. Slumped onto the bed. She was exhausted. She needed sleep. Without undressing, or even taking off her shoes, she lay there, trying not to think, until she nodded off.