29

Travis swung the torch around. ‘Not yet, tough bitch. I’ve got another job for you.’

Matt squinted at Jodie in the sudden glare. She was wild-eyed, breathing hard.

‘Get over there,’ Travis ordered and they were in darkness again, the torch pointing to the pit.

Even as Matt found Jodie in the dark and wrestled hold of her arm, his brain was ticking over. She tried to pull away but he held onto her. If she didn’t come with him, he’d never find her in the dark. And he wanted to see what was in that pit. Travis and Kane came here to dig it. They were either burying something or digging something up. And they’d gone to a lot of trouble to do it. More than a lot. They’d shot a woman, locked five people in a wardrobe and smashed a hole in the floor.

Why do that to bury something? The barn was surrounded by bush. They were in the middle of farming land. They could bury something anywhere out there.

He remembered Louise quoting them. We’ll get our stuff and get out of here. So they were digging something up? They’d lived here, they’d both been back in Bald Hill for a few years, they had plenty of opportunity to bury a bunch of stuff. If Matt was right, and Travis and Kane had killed John Kruger, what was important enough for them to hide from the cops for a day waiting for a chance to dig it up?

As he and Jodie moved past a brick pier, Matt saw where the torchlight extended beyond the pit. Saw there were two more freshly dug pits. They looked just like the first one – about the size of your average backyard barbecue, maybe knee-deep. He hesitated a moment. Cold fear stiffened his spine.

Jesus, maybe they were graves.

No, they weren’t big enough. He straightened a little, looked at Travis and Kane’s handiwork. Three piers in a row, three rectangular pits in front of them. Travis pointed with the torch to the next row of piers.

‘Get over there and dig. One hole each,’ Travis ordered.

Matt looked at the light bouncing off the piers and wondered about the positioning of the pits. He checked left then right. He couldn’t see a thing but he could smell the vague sandiness of the brick and mortar in the piers all around them. It was a big barn, it needed a lot of piers. After standing derelict for years, maybe the renovators had had to add a few more to prop up a sagging floor.

Matt felt his swollen lip turn up at the side. It would be hard to find one particular pier in the blackness. Especially if you hadn’t been down here in a while.

He started to move forward but Jodie pulled on his arm.

‘Matt, no,’ she whispered. ‘That’s five holes. There are five of us. I’m not digging a grave.’

‘Move it! Now!’ Travis shouted.

Matt caught her under his arm, hauled her forward. ‘It’s okay.’

She struggled against him, twisting her shoulders as she tried to break free. ‘No. We have to run. Now.’ Her leg banged into his bad knee and he grunted in pain but he held onto her. Travis had the gun and the torch. Now was not the time to run for it. The torch swung around, lit them up like a spotlight.

‘Get the fuck over there,’ Travis yelled, walking towards them.

Matt gripped Jodie by both shoulders and shook her. ‘Keep it together.’

‘We have to do something.’

‘We do what he says. Both of us.’

Then Travis was on them. He ripped Jodie away, flung her to the ground and put the pistol to Matt’s forehead. ‘I said dig, Wiseman.’ He looked down at Jodie. ‘Get up, bitch.’ Travis watched as she got to her feet then turned back to Matt. ‘Keep her under control or I’ll beat the shit out of her. Now move.’

Before she turned and walked, Jodie gave Travis one last glance, her eyes dark with loathing. When she looked at Matt, her mouth was a harsh line and her shoulders were rigid with hostility. Let it brew, babe, Matt thought, and warned himself to keep out of the firing line when she let it go.

He checked the first pit as they moved past. There was nothing in it. He guessed there was nothing in the others, either. Guessed that’s why they were starting two new pits. A couple of pickaxes were propped against the first brick pier.

‘So what’ve you lost?’ Matt said. ‘Your pocket money?’

Travis shoved him in the back with the gun. ‘Get a pick and dig.’

Matt lifted one, felt the weight of it in his hands. Nice hefty handle, chunky metal head. Gun still beat pick. ‘Your dad’s good citizen medals? Oh, that’s right. He didn’t get any. Used you for punching practice then beat up some other guy and went to prison.’

‘Shut up and dig!’

The floor was a little higher above their heads here but Matt still couldn’t stand upright. He raised the axe awkwardly over his shoulder and drove it into the earth. Pain stabbed his knee but he wasn’t going to let Travis know. ‘Or maybe you lost your best marbles down here, huh? Heard you were pretty good at those in juvie.’

‘Fuck you, Wiseman.’

Travis stood a couple of metres back from them, forming the top point of a wide triangle, holding the torch high to cast light near both piers. Jodie looked at Matt as she raised the pick to her shoulder. No surprise she knew how to swing it.

‘Or maybe it’s that mangy dog you used to drag around,’ Matt said. Rumour back then was that the father had taken to the mongrel with a brick. ‘You want to dig it up so you can buy it a nice headstone?’ As the last word left his mouth, the Old Barn flashed across his memory. How it was seven years ago. Broken windows, holes in the roof, an intact floor. No verandah. Matt’s pulse quickened. He lifted the pick, drove it deep. No, it didn’t make sense. Why would they come back for her? A sudden urgency made him attack the soil at his feet. The dirt was dark, friable farming soil but dry and hard packed. A sweat broke out on his back as he widened the hole, dug deeper. How many secrets had Travis and Kane buried?

One pier over, Jodie stopped digging. As Matt looked up, she straightened her legs and bent a little lower to peer into the pit. Her trench was maybe half the size of Matt’s, probably ankle depth if she was standing in it. She turned the pick head on its side, scraped away some dirt.

‘What?’ Travis said.

She backed off a step, glanced briefly at Matt, her eyes puzzled and wary.

Travis started towards her as Matt sent his pick into the dirt again. The thunk of metal that sounded under his axe made Travis swing the torchlight around.

‘Clear the dirt away,’ he ordered. He stomped over, aimed a bright circle of light into the bottom of the hole. ‘Hurry up! I haven’t got all night.’

Good to know, Matt thought. He’d had enough of having a gun at his back. He pulled clumps of dirt up and out of the pit, exposing the top of a large, flat, rectangular object. When there was only a loose layer of earth left, he dragged the long edge of the pick head across it. The hollow, scraping sound it made seemed to linger in the darkness. Travis’s circle of light grew brighter and sharper as he stepped closer. It illuminated a painted metal surface scored with rusted scuff marks.

A scatter of loose dirt made Matt lift his head. Over Travis’s shoulder, in the dim light thrown up from the pit, he saw Jodie’s pale face and the sleeve of her white sweater as she twisted her body to the side. A second later, there was a meaty thud and Travis jerked forward, stumbling into the pit. Matt pulled back a fist, ready to knock him to the ground, but Jodie followed Travis in and whacked him hard across the back with her pick handle. Travis’s head hit the brick pier with a crack. He crumpled to the ground and the torch went out.

Blackness closed in around them. A snapshot of Jodie – face determined, body in full thrust – stayed lit on Matt’s retinas. Action figure Jodie. He could hear her stumbling around close by, slipping and gasping as she tried to fumble her way out of the pit. He grabbed for her, closed his hand around her sweater, pulled her out and away. She was shaking, breathing hard. He wanted to crush her against him.

‘Where is he? Where is he?’ she hissed.

‘Out for the count.’ As he spoke, a double beam of light sliced through the darkness from under the front verandah. The gurgle of V8 twin exhausts broke the silence of the night. He remembered Jodie had heard a car in the night. This morning she’d thought it was The Beast. ‘Kane’s back. Find the gun.’ Matt dropped to his knees, bumped shoulders with Jodie as she crawled about. He patted at the earth, felt around Travis’s still body.

‘Jesus, I’ve killed him,’ Jodie said.

‘No, he’s just out cold.’ Matt had no idea whether he was dead or alive but he didn’t want Jodie freaking out about it. Not now. Kane’s headlights turned, pointed directly at the verandah, lighting the underfloor of the barn like a football field.

‘Shit,’ Jodie said. She was on all fours, looking up at him from the other side of Travis’s body. The lights went out. ‘Fuck. We need the torch.’

‘There’s no time to look.’

‘I can’t see a damn thing.’

‘Head for the hole in the floor.’ Matt heard her move. He followed suit, crawling on hands and one knee, dragging the bad one behind him.

‘Where are you?’ she whispered.

A car door opened and the faint glow of the interior light was enough to see her. She had her back pressed into a brick column, one pier over and one ahead.

‘I’m behind you,’ he whispered.

She looked back with huge eyes. Then the light went out and they were in blackness again.

Trying to remember where she was, Matt got to his feet, limped as quickly as he could across the darkness, arms straight out in front. A hand grabbed him by the shoulder of his jacket and pulled.

‘Come on,’ she whispered.

His other shoulder slammed into a pier, flung him sideways. ‘Shit.’

‘Move.’

‘I’m moving.’

‘Faster.’ Her voice was gravel in her throat. Her feet were scrabbling in the dirt but she held onto him. Then their heads were pressed to the underside of the floor at the jagged edge of the hole, just outside its ring of light.

A thud sounded on the front steps.

‘Go.’

‘Now.’

Matt stood to full height, his head and shoulders in the lounge room, the light blinding after the darkness underneath. He cupped his hands in front of his thighs. Jodie took a huge stride, stepped into his palms and hoisted herself cleanly up into the room. As heavy footfalls sounded on the stairs, he heaved himself up on his hands behind her. Jodie grabbed at his jacket, dragging him over the lip of the floor, pulling at his arm before he had both feet on the timber. He was running before he was upright, taking long, loping steps, following her, trying to ignore the pain in his knee. Outside, the footsteps got louder as Kane hit the verandah.

Jodie yanked Matt sideways, heading for the bedrooms.

He hauled against her, the smashed glass door in his sights. ‘This way,’ he hissed.

‘We have to go back for the others.’

He caught her wrist. ‘No.’

The footsteps stopped. Jodie’s head swung to the door, swung back to Matt. She took his forearm in a double-fisted grip, heaved against him. A tug of war and he was the rope.

‘No,’ he said again.

The door rattled and as it started on its inward arc, Jodie broke the tension on his arm so fast, he stumbled backwards. Then she was suddenly dragging him towards the back door.

The front door crashed open against the wall. They were halfway across the room. A voice roared behind them.

Kane.

Matt willed his knee to work. Ground bone against mashed cartilage. Jodie was ahead of him, running almost side-on as she pulled him through the wreckage of the room. Kane’s boots thundered on the floor behind them.

They made it to the smashed door, thumped across the verandah. Jodie hit the steps first. She was halfway down when Matt reached the top one. He should have shuffled his good leg to the front. He should have gone down two at a time, dragging his bad leg behind. But he didn’t. And his knee collapsed underneath him. He fell like a sack of apples. His shoulder hit the timber, his forehead followed, then the rest of him rolled over the top. The howl of pain as his knee twisted under him shattered the night.