HIS eyes streamed and his lungs laboured, but Speedy didn’t stop. He pulled the neck of his T-shirt higher to cover his nose. The muscles in his legs quivered and the soles of his feet sported grape-sized blisters.
The terrain was impossibly steep. He’d left the pine forests behind twenty minutes ago. Between the tall native eucalypts the grass grew sharp and spindly, slashing at his legs and catching his overalls.
The ground rustled with escaping animals. Everything was trying to move to higher ground, away from the fire. He’d discarded the drip torch when it ran out of fuel, but it had done the job. Behind him, the hillside was an inferno and he needed to keep moving if he were to stay ahead of it. So far it had grown in intensity rather than spread rapidly. But a wind shift or a change in the fuel load could alter all that. Ahead, through the trees, he could see the crown of the rose gum that stood in the Scotts’ yard. Not far now.
A sharp crack behind him made Speedy spin on his heels, the sudden change in direction sending him crashing to the ground. Several hundred metres below him, on the line where the plantation met the old-growth forest, a gum already dead before the fire had succumbed to the heat. The ancient giant toppled down the slope, crashing through the pines below, splintering wood and showering sparks as it fell in a gathering rush. Embers rained down around him, borne by the wind that was racing ahead of the fire.
He slapped at several smouldering patches on his clothes and pulled himself to his feet, pushing on up the slope. None of this was in his plan. By now he should have been attending the fire out at Carrington Road, well away from his latest masterpiece. He’d done everything right until that scum had followed him.
As he carried on forcing his way up the hill, he tried to make sense of Ryan’s actions. If he was a Fed it might explain the lily-white record, sanitised by his masters, but that didn’t excuse what Speedy had seen with the boy. Being a Fed didn’t make him pure as the driven snow. Anyone could be a paedophile. His stepfather had been a bank manager, for Christ’s sake. And he’d gone to confession and church on the odd occasion.
Yet Ryan’s claims probably did mean the cops had finally caught up with Speedy. He was never going back inside again. Sure, he’d learnt how to do things the right way in there, shut up and survive, but he wasn’t doing it again. He’d die before he let that happen.
A stupid business degree in his mid-forties wasn’t useful when he had nothing else to back it up. What a friggin’ joke.
He stopped for a moment to get his bearings. Another 25 metres and he’d be on flat land. It spurred him on through the stitch in his side and the pain in his feet. Once he finally pushed through the last stand of trees and onto the Scotts’ property, the following wind buffeted him. At this height it was roaring. Glowing spot fires danced and flared on the short grass, leaving charcoal patches as they failed to take hold. The giant gum tossed in the frenzy, showering leaves and bark around it, but even those failed to do more than smoulder when they hit the ground.
Ahead of him, the house looked deserted. It took a moment to work out what was different about it. The house was locked up tight, with metal roller blinds covering the windows. He walked towards it, shaking his head. If Julia was home, she knew him so it would be an easy thing to talk his way inside.
The ground underfoot was wet. ‘Clever. She thinks she’s clever,’ he murmured, his mouth turning down as his eyes darted around the property, looking for movement. He faltered when he saw the fine mist being sprayed along the roofline. The heat from the fire was evaporating much of it, but it was like a fine-mesh protection shrouding the whole building. He grunted in disbelief. She really thought she had it all figured out.
That meant she was inside. If he cut the power to the property then that would stop her pump. Was she smart enough to have her power box enclosed?
He jogged around to the right of the house. Nothing on that side, so he kept going along the roadside and to the left. Bingo. The protective metal box was bigger than your average meter box, but it wasn’t locked. It opened easily and he scanned the switches.
‘Shit. It can’t be.’ The power was already off. None of the dials were running. By now the roar of the fire was getting closer and he tried to block it out. Did she have a generator somewhere?
‘Hello?’ A female voice came from the front of the building and he slammed the cover closed. ‘Hello?’ the woman repeated. ‘Do you need some help?’ A muscular, compact dog shot around the corner and then slowed to a stiff-legged walk. ‘Nero. Nero, come back.’
Speedy knew he’d need to keep his story straight. ‘Nero, hey. Good dog.’ He waggled his fingers at it, but only got bared teeth in return. He gave it a wide berth.
Julia was peering out of the half-closed doorway.
‘Sorry, ma’am. I’m Speedy from the Rural Fire Brigade. I’m Dan’s bus driver too. Didn’t realise anyone was still here. We’ve evacuated the area.’
She was nodding as he spoke. ‘Yes, I know who you are.’ The door closed all but a crack. ‘We’re staying put.’
‘It’s a nasty fire front coming up the hill. I’d strongly suggest you leave while you still have time.’
‘No, we’re fine.’
‘We?’
She nodded. ‘Kaitlyn will be here soon.’
Speedy shook his head, his throat constricting. Was Dan home, not safe at school? ‘No, ma’am, they won’t be letting anyone else through. The roads are blocked off. You need to come with me.’
Daniel pushed through the narrow opening at his grandmother’s side. His bright red hair was the only colour relief against the thick black clothes they were both wearing. Their faces were white, the tension in them obvious.
‘We’ll be fine,’ Dan said as Nero shot between his legs and stopped beside him, ears pricked, hackles raised.
‘Hey, Dan.’ He had to get the lad away to safety. He tried again. ‘It would be better not to stay, ma’am.’
‘No, leave us alone. We don’t need your help.’ Her shoulders squared off and even Dan stood taller. Her tone was positively regal and it scraped like fingers on a chalkboard over his nerves. Who did the fuckin’ cow think she was? He was risking his life telling her to get out and she knew better?
‘In fact, we’re calling the police.’ Julia’s voice rose. ‘I know you’re an imposter, and so does Kaitlyn. You killed my husband, Kaitlyn’s husband. You’re a murderer!’ Suddenly she was screaming accusations at him as she tried to drag her grandson and the dog inside.
Speedy started towards them, but the stupid mongrel darted in and grabbed his ankle. The overalls protected him, but Speedy kicked out, swinging the dog through the air. Its teeth let go at the top of the arc and the dog flew up against the side of the house. It hit with a thud and a yelp then gathered itself and leapt at him again.
‘No, no, Nero!’ Julia screamed.
Before he could protect himself completely the dog had latched onto his thigh. He reacted the only way he knew how and punched it in the head. It dropped and lay still, but then a whirling dervish of flailing arms and legs fell on him. Daniel’s kicks landed solidly on his shins. Little bastard was a fighter, he’d give him that, Speedy thought with a glimmer of admiration as he grabbed Daniel’s thin arms and hauled him off the ground. His shins had endured so much on the journey to the house that they were almost impervious to pain. The kid could kick as much as he wanted.
‘Put me down!’
‘If you stop kicking me, you little shit,’ he managed to grunt.
Julia was trying to get to Daniel, but was in danger of being kicked herself. She was shrieking at Speedy to put the boy down. He kept them positioned like that right up until he tripped over the dog and went sprawling. Daniel was on him again, his tight fists peppering Speedy’s arms and stomach.
‘Enough!’ Speedy roared, backhanding the kid across the face and sending him flying. The lad landed awkwardly and looked winded.
‘Fuckin’ enough!’ He hadn’t counted on the old lady having any fight in her, so when she grabbed the shovel he stared in disbelief. A friggin’ seven-year-old boy, a half-grown dog, and an elderly woman thought they could best him?
‘Look, lady, I’m going. Okay?’ He got to his feet, keeping clear of the dog this time.
‘Oh no, you’re not.’ She nodded at the embroidered name badge on his overalls. ‘You’re not Speedy. You’re not Chris Jackson, either. I know who you are and I know what you did.’
‘Bullshit, lady. You’re nuts.’
‘No.’ She shook her head, the fight going out of her. ‘No. What you did to my family, what you took from us …’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘What do you want from us now? How much more can you do? Why did you follow us here?’
A series of sharp cracks followed by a crashing sound came from the other side of the house. The fire had arrived. He enjoyed seeing the spark of fear in Julia’s eyes as he grinned at her, licking his lips. The shovel trembled in her hands and a super-heated gust of wind hit, sending a shower of sparks billowing past them.
The kid sat up, clutching his arm, but Speedy could see he wasn’t beaten yet.
‘Daniel, go and phone the police. Tell them we need them here. Go. Now,’ she ordered.
Speedy couldn’t let that happen, but when he moved to block the boy the old lady charged at him.
‘Don’t you touch him again!’ she yelled, swinging the shovel at his legs.
She was easy pickings and he grabbed the handle with his right hand, twisting it. Gamely she hung on, even though there was no weight to her at all.
He’d had enough. Time to leave. He took two steps forwards and shoved her back through the doorway. Without stopping to look at the result he started loping towards the driveway.
‘Stop, or I’ll shoot!’ The yell took him by surprise but he didn’t slow down, even as he felt the bullet whistle past at the instant he heard the crack of a small-calibre gun.