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Penny felt the drop in temperature as dusk began to fall. Lying on the dirt floor of their hut, she listened to Francois’s shallow, erratic breathing in between Bec’s incoherent mumbles. Under her head, Christopher’s thigh twitched. The world outside was quiet save for the growling of primates nearby, but it was the ever-so-subtle cooling of the evening air that almost made her cry. The heat had become unbearable over the last twenty-four hours, and the walls of the hut pressed in.
Being confined in the small space made the heat harder to withstand, and the feeling of being caged strangled her heart. She needed to get up and walk, to stretch her legs, and sleep in a real bed. The limited space trapped her. She needed to stand, stretch, move.
Grateful that the others could find some rest, she stared into the darkness, her mind numbed by the reality they’d been taken because some deranged lunatic thought her husband was still alive. The lives of Francois, Bec and Christopher were in danger because of her. Penny didn’t know how to feel about that.
Rustling sounded. She cracked an eye open to see Bec rise to her feet. Her small hands fisted by her sides and the expression on her face worried Penny. Bec looked ready to explode. Her eyes darted from Penny to Christopher and Francois and back again, and the desperation in them made Penny sit up.
“I can’t do it anymore!”
“Hush,” Christopher implored. “They will come.”
Bec shook her head. “I need to get out.”
“We all do,” Penny agreed in a low voice. “We understand, sweetheart.”
Bec shook her head. Tears began to stream down her face. “Let me out!” she wailed.
The sound of boots approaching the hut brought Penny to her feet. Crossing the small space, she stood by the girl’s side and placed a hand on her shoulder. The tears had washed some of the dirt from her cheeks and as she turned to Penny, the fight went out of her and she sagged back down to the ground. Kneeling, she hugged Bec tight, trying to think of words but none came.
Nothing she could do or say would change the situation. Worse still, she couldn’t think of any way out. Hell, there was no way out.
“Shh,” Penny smooth a hand over Bec’s head. “I know.”
“I want to go home.”
“Shut her up!” shouted a guard at the door. “Or I will.”
Bec hiccupped against Penny’s chest, trying to swallow her sobs. Penny rocked, remembering back to a moment in time when her own daughter cried against her, just as Bec did. She would have been two, or three, her knees bearing the brunt of a fall from her bike. Penny had sung to her, calming the child.
Soft and gentle, she began to hum the same tune to Bec. Loud enough only for the girl to hear, Penny crooned the Italian lullaby her mother had sung to her. The melody soothed them both and she closed her eyes, returning to her past when her life held more joy and promise.
*
Penny pulled the blanket around her shoulders tighter to ward off the chill. She should be at home studying for Monday’s calculus test, not huddled under an umbrella, wrapped in a picnic blanket amongst a horde of strangers who booed every time the opposition touched the ball. Instead, she was here, trying not to get drenched by the sudden downpour, while she watched him play football.
On the oval field, eighteen young men tried to move the egg-shaped ball from one end to the other, while eighteen others tried to stop them. The hard body hits jarred her each time she saw them, and the tackles? Goodness gracious, how did Damien do this without getting slammed into the soggy grass and breaking bones?
The crowd nearby jeered as a member of the opposition tackled a player to the ground and was rewarded with a free kick.
“Chump!”
“Give it up, ref!”
The player who received the free kick grinned up at them, stirring the hornet’s nest around her into a frenzy. Half the spectators gave him the bird while the other half encouraged their team—Damien’s team—to take him down. With a kick, the game got going again. Men ran toward the goals on Penny’s left. The one with the ball dodged, weaved and turned, bouncing the ball in a fancy maneuver that only pulled cries of “show off!” from the crowd.
Closer and closer he ran to the four upright white poles that masqueraded as goal posts. One of his own teammates ran alongside, protecting him from defenders by bumping them away. Around her, folks screamed for someone to tackle him. Many tried but didn’t succeed.
The player crossed the fifty-meter line and prepared himself to launch a torpedo kick. The noise hit a crescendo, practically deafening her, but on the field, she spied a tall strong young man in their team colors of red and yellow making a beeline for the would-be goal kicker.
With a flourish, Damien launched himself at the player, caught him around the middle and took him to the ground. They rolled over and over, the ball lodged between their bodies. The crowd roared with approval and when the opposition player knocked the ball forward, three referees blew their whistles. Cheers sounded all around as Damien rolled to his feet. Mud splattered his face but beneath it, he wore a grin from ear to ear.
Penny found herself beaming with pride at his tackle, though to be honest, she knew next to nothing about Aussie Rules Football. The physicality of the game surprised her and the fitness Damien exhibited impressed her, but most of all, she was shocked by the way his bravado appealed to her. She’d never thought herself attracted by such a show of on-field cockiness but then, he had it off the field, too—and hadn’t that won her over? Much to her mother’s disapproval, she’d found in Damien the yin to her yang.
He was the strength to her delicacy; the light to her intensity; the playfulness to her seriousness. On their first real date, he’d taken her to Luna Park and encouraged her to ride the rollercoaster. Terrified, she’d clung to his hand so hard that when they were done, she saw she’d drawn blood with her fingernails. Damien hadn’t cared, saying he’d wear the wounds with honor. He’d shown her how to have fun, how to let down her hair and that while it was fine for her to have goals, life was too short to keep her head in her books all the time.
In true Damien fashion, though, on their second date he’d taken her on a picnic to a local park where he read Shakespeare to her and fed her grapes. His ability to surprise astounded. He could be sweet when needed and bold when desired, and when one of his groupies slagged her off, he defended her.
The crowd around them erupted into raucous applause, pulling Penny out of her thoughts. Damien stood directly in front of the goal posts with the ball. He put the ball on the ground and pulled up his socks. Taking the red oval ball in hand, he stood and lined up the shot. Penny held her breath as she rose to her feet. Her heart hammered in her chest and the umbrella fell to the side as her attention focused squarely on the young man she had tried to deny was her boyfriend.
He took one step with his left leg and swung with his right, connecting the ball with a loud thump. The leather ball rocketed off his boot toward the goals, spiraling through the air in a beautiful, accurate arc. When it sailed through the two tall goal posts, the entire mass of spectators went wild. Hoots and hollers, shouts and yeehaws sounded all around the ground. Despite the cold rain splattering on her face, Penny cheered too, clapping her hands together as the picnic blanket slipped to the ground.
The siren sounded and it set off another round of celebrations. The score on the board had Damien’s team ahead by two points. Damien had kicked the winning goal and the festivity down on the field was a delight to watch. Players high-fived each other and hugged, and in amongst it all, Damien turned to find her in the crowd. When he saw her, he broke into a run and headed her way. Leaping over the boundary fence, he made his way through the crowd, accepting their handshakes and backslaps of congratulations.
“We won!” he shouted, racing over to pick her up and spin her around.
“I know!” Penny laughed.
He set her back on the ground and stared into her eyes. Penny wiped a splotch of mud off his cheek. “And the best part about it,” he grinned, “is that my girlfriend was here to see it.”
*
Her eyes snapped open to find darkness had swallowed them. The memory strengthened her resolve. The faith Damien always had reminded her to never take anything lying down. She’d always been a fighter and she’d never, ever given in.
“Bec?” The girl wouldn’t respond. “Bec, look at me.”
She forced the girl to lean back and took her face in her hands. So young, so very young. Penny pushed the limp, greasy hair out of Bec’s eyes and peered into them. She plastered a smile on her face, hoping to lift her spirits. Bec’s sadness magnified. Her mouth drooped beneath the dark circles that ringed her puffy eyes. Her tears had left tracks through the dust caked on her cheeks, revealing fading bruises.
“We will find a way,” she whispered to the nurse. “I don’t know how, but I promise you, I won’t give up.”
Bec closed her eyes and shook her head, resigned to their apparent fate. “We can’t.”
“We can, and we will.”
“How?”
Penny sighed. “I don’t know, yet,” she confessed, “but I have a feeling. Someone will come for us, I know it. Do you hear me?”
Opening her eyes, Bec shook her head. “There is no hope.”
Penny thought of her daughter and smiled. “There is always hope,” she declared. “We’re not dead yet.”
Beside them, Francois stirred. His eyes opened and he looked straight at Penny. She blinked at his awareness and went to his side. Bec shuffled closer.
“Francois, can you hear me?”
He nodded. “I don’t want to die, Penny.”
She placed her palm on his burning brow. “I won’t let you.”
Determination filled her chest. She put a hand over her abdomen and reminded herself that she was made of the toughest mettle. All she needed was a small window of opportunity, just one chance. That was all.
With Mustang blood and McCafferty heart, she didn’t know how to give up.