30

Jodie didn’t pause. She just hauled on his arm.

In the lounge room, Kane was skidding on broken glass. Something heavy was sent flying. He was cursing them, shouting for his brother.

‘C’mon!’ Jodie yelled.

Matt was on his back in the dirt. His knee was one long, screaming pain. He tried to move it, to push himself up but the message wouldn’t reach his leg. Jesus, he was going to get her killed.

‘Go, Jodie.’

She flung his arm away, straddled his chest, grabbed the lapels of his jacket in both fists and dragged him to a sitting position.

‘Go!’ he said.

‘Get up, goddamn it. Get up!’ She stepped back, heaved some more. She was adrenaline-fuelled. She lifted all six-foot-two of him to his feet.

Matt got his good leg under him, tried to walk. The bush was twenty metres away. He was never going to make it. ‘Save yourself.’

She jammed a shoulder into his armpit, wrapped an arm around his waist, got a grip on the top of his jeans. ‘Shut up and move!’ She didn’t give him a choice. She was a steam train on a track, hauling him forward, taking his weight, keeping him moving and upright.

Kane’s feet pounded onto the verandah. His voice was like thunder. ‘I’m going to fucking shoot you.’

Travis had the gun. Travis was under the house.

Matt heard the distinctive crank of a pump-action shotgun. Shit. He hunkered over, pushed Jodie’s head down as he did.

‘Get down,’ he said.

‘Run,’ she said.

Kane said nothing. He let a shotgun do the talking.

A single boom rolled down the slopes of the hill and ricocheted around the dark valley. Jodie screamed without breaking step. They were ten metres from the bush, light from the house fading behind them. Matt was going as fast as he could but he was holding her back, slowing her down. His leg was agony and he didn’t know how much longer it would hold his weight. If it gave up, he couldn’t hop the distance and there was no way she could carry him. On current performance, she’d try – and she’d probably give it a good go. She was strong but she wasn’t The Hulk.

‘I’m gonna to kill you, Wiseman.’ There was no lunatic menace in Kane’s roar. It was just brutal, resentful fury.

Matt didn’t know how good a shot Kane was. With the spray of pellets fired from a shotgun, he didn’t have to be any kind of marksman. And right now, Matt couldn’t afford to bet against him. Right now, Matt, you’re the guy who’s going to get Jodie killed. Who gets to live this time, Matt?

He put his hand on the centre of her back, tried to push her ahead of him, already feeling the relief that would come with turning around and facing the arsehole on the verandah. ‘Run for it, Jodie.’

Her response was a war cry. A guttural blast of sound that seemed to rise from way down deep inside. Her arm around his waist became a front-end loader, not pulling anymore but pushing. Pressing him relentlessly forward, heedless of his useless knee. Man, she was unstoppable. He was a weak, pathetic bastard and Jodie was The Hulk. On steroids. Any second now she was going to tuck him under her arm and carry him away.

‘Fuck you, Wiseman. Fuck the both of you.’

Gunfire roared into the night again. A metre ahead, leaves were shredded as shotgun pellets tore into the bush. Two more steps and they were at the edge of dense native bush that looked like a solid chest-high hedge in the dark. They went in headfirst, arms outstretched to fend off the branches that scraped at their faces. Behind them, Kane’s boots pummelled down the steps then fell silent as he hit the dirt.

They dropped to the ground, Matt landing heavily across her thighs. She pushed at him, rolled out from under. They were in darkness again. Not as dark as it was under the barn but still too dark to make out much more than the mass of shrubbery around them.

‘Stay down and head left,’ Matt whispered. He heard her take off, move quickly away and attempted to follow. But his knee was hopeless in a crawl and he dragged it behind as he clawed his way through the dirt and undergrowth.

‘You two are dead. You hear me?’ Kane yelled, his voice still too far away to be at the line of bush.

Matt tried for a forty-five degree angle away from the barn, moving deeper into the brush while aiming for the back corner of the lounge room. There was a rustling nearby, slightly ahead and a little further into the scrub. He hoped it was Jodie and not some sharp-toothed nocturnal animal ready to defend its patch.

Kane’s voice was closer this time. Maybe close enough to be at the edge of the bush. ‘I can see you. You’re going to be dead in a second.’

There was no way Kane could see them, Matt told himself. The direction of his voice was too far to the right but his scalp tingled with alarm anyway. He wanted to get up and run. Find Jodie and charge deep into the bush, not stop until they were in the valley below. For a second he tried to tell himself his tortuous limping would be faster than crawling around blind. But that was what Kane was hoping he’d do – give him a head to take a pot shot at.

He stopped instead, lay flat on the ground. The nearby rustling stopped too. Good girl, Jodie. Stay down. The smell of eucalyptus filled his nostrils, crisp dry leaves cut into his face, dirt and stones pressed at his hands and knees. Over the sound of his own breathing, he heard the soft thud of footfalls on grass. Coming their way. Jesus, if Matt could hear Kane’s footsteps on the cleared ground, any movement in the bush would be like holding up a target.

‘I’m lining you up for a head shot so get ready to die.’ Kane was close now, the menace creeping back into his voice, like he was starting to enjoy the hunt.

There’d been no bush-rustling from Kane’s direction so he was probably walking along the perimeter of scrub, hoping to catch sight of them before charging in. Matt had no idea how deep into the bush they were but he guessed it wasn’t far enough to outrun Kane. Definitely not outside firing range. If he stood up, gave Kane something to shoot at, it might give Jodie a chance to run.

Then what? Even if she got away, there were more hostages in the barn. A stockpile of them. Saving one out of three wasn’t good enough.

Matt looked off to the left. Jodie was ahead of him. It was possible Kane was guessing the direction when he’d walked their way. Maybe it was time the guy had something to shoot at.

Matt skimmed his palms across the dirt, patting at lumps of clay and small stones until he found what he wanted. Then he rolled on his back, aimed high and wide, crossing his fingers the chunk of sandstone didn’t ricochet off a tree straight back at him.

It landed with a thunk and rustle of underbrush a good ten metres away. Matt had no idea if it fooled Kane, didn’t bother to consider it when he heard Kane hit the bush at a run. As foliage thrashed behind him, Matt pushed off the ground with his good leg and loped towards the last place he’d heard Jodie, hoping she’d taken off already and found somewhere safe to hide. Hoping he’d find her again.

‘I’ve got you, you fuckers.’ Kane was trying to sound triumphant but the grunting and puffing as he tore through the undergrowth took the edge off it. So did the direction of his voice. He was heading away, shouting abuse, not listening for them.

Matt kept moving forward and to the left, standing higher than he should, daring to call out to Jodie in a loud whisper.

Behind him, the bush fell silent and Matt hit the ground again.

‘You think you’re smart, don’t you, Wiseman?’ Kane was out of breath, treading slowly through the scrub now. ‘You’re not. You’re an arsehole.’

Takes one to know one, Matt thought, crawling again, trying to go quietly, grimacing in pain as he lifted his leg instead of dragging it. He heard a soft rustle not far ahead. Keep going, Jodie. He picked up his pace, heading towards the sound, feeling his way. It was so dark, Kane would have to be almost on top of them before he saw them. Then the bush was crashing about again. Kane was moving faster, was heading their way.

When Matt saw Jodie, fear tightened his throat. She was on her hands and knees, crawling under the overhang of a bush – and her white sweater glowed like a streetlight in fog.

‘I can see you. Get ready to die,’ Kane yelled.

The guy had a limited repertoire but he wasn’t blind, Matt thought. And he was close. Too close. All that sweater needed to make the shot easier was a big, red circle. Damn the noise, he thought as he drove to his feet and ran. Bent almost double and limping like his leg was hanging off, he dived through the undergrowth towards her.

‘Pissant chicken shit!’

Matt could hear the pounding of Kane’s boots over the thrashing of the bush, saw Jodie look behind, rise to a crouch. If she took off running, he’d never catch her.

He braced himself for the pain in his knee and launched himself at her. She was on her feet when he reached her, half revolved towards him, hands pulled back ready to strike. He got both his arms around her thighs, turned his face away but she still landed a solid hit to his collarbone as he pushed her to the dirt. He heard her breath whoosh out, felt the momentary stunned stillness as she hit the ground, took the advantage and scrabbled over her, cupping his hand across her mouth. He’d apologise later. For now, he had to stop her bucking around. She drove hips and knees at him, scratched at his face, whipped her head about. Her eyes were open but she wasn’t seeing. He found her ear, pressed his mouth against it.

‘It’s me. It’s Matt.’

He held her head still, one hand over her mouth, the other with a handhold of hair, forcing her to look at him. He felt bad about it but it was better than letting her scream. When recognition hit, her eyes went wide, her body fell still and the hands that had been pushing him away grabbed at his shirt and pulled ferociously at him. He took his hand away from her mouth and she pressed her face into his shoulder, breathing hard. Yeah, Jodie, I feel the same way.

Kane was moving around nearby. Matt tugged at the front panels of his jacket, tried to cover Jodie’s sweater with it. She tucked her arms inside his coat, slipped her hands around his back, leaving cold palms flat on his shoulderblades.

She was out of breath, puffing loudly and trying not to, burying her face in his neck, moving her lips against his stubble as she gasped for air. He eased down a little, taking the pressure off his arms, felt her chest heaving against his, her neat, round breasts pushing against his rib cage. She was lean and toned and soft in all the right places. She was tough and strong and she’d just saved his unworthy arse. It was like a cruel joke. He gets his dream woman in a clinch hold thirty seconds before a bullet through the head.

‘Hey, tough bitch. You ready to die?’ Kane’s voice was right above them.

Jodie froze. Foliage whispered, leaves shuffled under boot. A branch snapped. Her mouth on his neck stopped moving, her chest stopped heaving. Matt’s heart was a mallet at the back of his throat.

‘How ’bout you, Wiseman? You ready to spill your brains?’

A voice boomed and echoed in the night. ‘KANE. Where the fuck are you?’ Travis was yelling from the barn.

‘Wiseman and the tough bitch are out here. Bring the torch.’ Kane’s voice had moved past them. Matt took a slow, quiet breath. Felt Jodie do the same.

‘There’s no time for a fucking search party. I found it. Get your arse back here,’ Travis yelled.

‘I want Wiseman and the bitch on a spit.’

‘Fuck that. You got three more up here.’

Jodie’s body went rigid. Matt grimaced as her fingernails dug into his shoulder. There was silence except for Kane’s breath rasping in and out.

‘Now, Kane. Get up here and help or I piss off without you.’

The foliage overhead shook violently. Kane was flaying about, cursing his brother. Jodie seemed to be struggling for air. He tried to take more of his weight on his arms but she pulled him tighter against her.

‘Hey, Wiseman.’ The scrub stilled. ‘I’m coming back for you. You hear? I’m gonna beat your brains out and cut you up in little pieces. I’m gonna dig a hole and put you in the ground.’

Matt stiffened. Like the holes under the barn?

Leaves swished and swayed against each other as Kane started walking away.

‘You and your tough bitch and all her friends,’ he yelled.