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The evening sun shone on his face, waking Philip, who was stiff and uncomfortable from being trapped under a fallen verandah and from sleeping in the ute, which had been shaken by the aftershocks and moved every time the dogs stirred. Their chains rattled as they stretched or changed position to get out of the hot sun. He walked back to the café where he had eaten earlier in the day. As their contribution to the aftermath of the earthquake, the owners of the café were not charging obvious victims. Philip with his bruised arm and scratched face was easily recognised as a victim and consequently was treated like a king. He asked for something for his dogs and was given a packet of minced meat, ground beef.
The dogs made short work of the minced beef. They rattled their chains in a mute request to go for a walk. Philip knew that the local council strictly enforced the rules for exercising dogs so he drove out of town to a quiet spot. He let the dogs off their chains so they could run freely. He left the dogs to sniff and scratch and explore the small green area before whistling them back to the pick-up truck. They jumped on the tray on the back and sat while Philip chained them to the bar across the back of the cab.
Philip drove on, arriving at the detour sign that Richard had taken to avoid the delays of reconstruction of the road after the last earthquake. A short distance on Philip took the right hand fork in the road that led off to Te Kouka. He passed through the small township. He could see a small group of people inspecting the school, which appeared to be undamaged.
He drove on. The road now just led to Te Kouka Flats and Gresham Downs. The road narrowed and became a metal surface, gravel that was occasionally loosened then evened out by the Council grader. Philip had reached their land; Greg's on the left and Philip's on the right, two long narrow strips on either side of the river. Suddenly, with a bang, the truck's front tyres hit a savage gash in the road. Philip had not been travelling fast but both front wheels buckled and bent. The back wheels of the pick-up truck truck clear the gash in the road with a huge thump then stopped dead. The rear springs had broken. Philip was going no further.
Philip's first thoughts were for the dogs chained to the tray. One dog was hanging over the edge, his rear feet just touching the ground. It jumped up and down to avoid being strangled by its collar. Philip lifted it up and put it gently on the tray. He ran his fingers under the dog's collar to check that it could breathe freely.
The dogs were upset. Although they had no broken bones, Philip decided to leave the dogs behind. He fastened their chains to different sections of the fence at the side of the road so that they could run as far as the wire allowed the link to slip along it, then placed water bowls within their reach before setting out to walk to his home. If anybody queried where he had been, he would be able to give a very good reason.
Being mid-summer, the evening was hot and airless. As a farmer used to analysing the weather, Philip thought that the temperature was around twenty eight or thirty degrees with low humidity. He had given his water to the dogs, two sharing a bowl placed between them, at the end of their stretch so they couldn't fight, and one dog with an ice cream container all to itself. The trouble with ice cream containers and dogs was that they always tipped the container over. He should be back for his dogs once he got to his farm and the freezer truck, with a detour on the way to dispose of the frozen corpses.
Philip could not leave the rifle or his drug stuff in the car where they would be found. His rifle was behind the bench seat. The bolt that made the bullet fire was in the glovebox. Philip fitted it to the rifle rather than carry the sharp piece of metal in a pocket. The ammunition was under the front seat. Philip put ten rounds in a pocket of his safari jacket and left the rest. With his firearm secured, and his little parcel safely in one of his safari jacket pockets, Philip set off for Gresham Downs.
He walked at a steady pace, an ex-military man used to covering long distances. Tall, dark and very fit Philip made an attractive figure but there was no-one around to admire him. Someone might have wondered at wearing a sleeveless jacket in the heat but it was not that unusual, especially for fishermen.
Ahead of him Philip saw a slight figure curled up and sleeping in the bracken and grass at the side of the road. He and Greg owned the only farms on this road. Philip was puzzled. He approached the child carefully, reaching out to push a shoulder. When the body turned over, he saw that it was a young girl, probably around thirteen.
"Hi there," he said as a young teenager looked at him through bleary eyes. "Everything okay?"
Although Jo was glad to see someone she was wary in case the man was Mr Zinsli.
"Our car got trashed in the earthquake this morning," she said. "Mum and Dad sent me to get help. I am Jo. What's your name, Mister?"
Zinsli said, "Philip. My name is Philip Zinsli. I'm going to see my friend Greg to offer help."
"Good luck," said Jo. "How far is it to Te Kouka?"
"It's not far. My ute hit a crack in the road. Had to leave my dogs chained to a fence," said Philip.
Jo smelled a rat. If Philip was going to help Greg he would have his dogs walk with him. Zinsli saw the hesitation in Jo's face.
"Couldn't get the ute any further," he said. "Have to walk the rest of the way then get a truck from Greg and come back for my dogs."
"I'm walking to Te Kouka to get help. I'm on my way now," said Jo. "Good luck with the truck but you won't get far because the bridge is down. I'll check your dogs for you."
"Thanks," said Philip Zinsli, wondering what had put the teenager on her guard. "What do you mean, the bridge is down?"
"It's fallen in the water," said Jo. "I had to climb down the bank to cross the river."
At that moment Jo, perhaps because of tiredness, a momentary forgetfulness, made a mistake. She asked. "Have you seen a little boy dressed in blue?"
A little boy dressed in blue. 'Mum and Dad'. No mention of a brother. The only little boy around here was Sally's son Lance. To know about Lance, this girl must have been to Somerville's farm. Zinsli grabbed her with both arms. "Who are you?" he asked.
"Let me go!" screamed Jo, unable to loosen his grip. He shook her until she stopped struggling. He undid his belt. Jo was terrified.
"Don't hurt me," she said, thinking he was about to rape her.
"You're coming with me," said Zinsli. He used his belt to tie her wrists behind her back leaving a long piece of the belt as a handle to hold her if she tried to run off.
"No, I've got to get help," said Jo.
"I'll need you to persuade your parents ... " He didn't finish his sentence but Jo knew that he was hiding something and wanted some kind of hold on her parents. So, what was he hiding?
"Walk in front," he said.
Jo began walking. At first, Zinsli held the tail end of his belt that was around Jo's wrists. It was awkward and difficult, both for him holding the tail of the belt, and for her, walking with her hands tied behind her back. After a while, Zinsli let go of the tail of the belt but stayed very close to Jo.
"A bit like a small child going shopping wearing reins," thought Jo. "Was this how slaves felt as they were marched across Africa?"
She refused to speak to Zinsli.
"Hey, kid, how many people in your family?" he asked.
"I'm not speaking to you," replied Jo.
"Hey, Jo. You wanna rest?"
"I'm not talking to you."
They walked on. The road was gravel. It was fenced on both sides, with pasture rolling away up the hillside on the left, with a grove of cabbage trees, te kouka, on the ridge in the distance. The grass was brown and sparse. It needed irrigation. On the right, beyond the fence, bracken fern was growing in the fields. The two farms were long and narrow, one on each side of the river.
"They could easily irrigate the farms using the river," thought Jo, then she remembered television programmes and protests about how hard it was getting water rights and permits to use water, while Councils gave the water to Chinese firms for a small licence fee. The Chinese companies bottled the water and sold it, while farms like these were left without irrigation. She could not understand the rules sometimes.
Jo was surprised at how little distance she had walked from the broken bridge. Coming to the top of a rise, Jo could see the remains of the bridge ahead and below. In fact, Jo was pleased to take a rest when they got to the bridge.
"Holy Cow!" said Zinsli. "The whole bridge has gone!"
From the road, the ground dropped away down to the river bed, then rose up again in a V shape. The only connection left between both sides was the narrow wooden beam that Lance had walked across.
"I wonder where he is?" thought Jo as she sat down on the grass and rested.
It was a bright night with the river a silver band between dark banks. Zinsli looked at the remains of the bridge. The structure had collapsed, some still on the steep banks on either side of the river but most of it a tangled mass of twisted wood and tar seal, like a child's Constructa Kit toy that had toppled sideways, leaving the piles at odd angles, and one beam joining both sides of the river. Zinsli doubted that the beam would take his weight.
Looking around him, Zinsli found the trail of bent and broken vegetation where Jo had emerged after crossing the river. There was no way across the river except to slip down the bank, wade across then climb up the other side. He looked at the far side of the cutting, finding the trail of bent and broken vegetation where Jo had slid down the bank to cross the river.
"If you promise to be good, I'll take the belt off," he said. "Promise?"
Jo nodded so Zinsli removed the belt from her wrists. Jo was a teenager; she had not promised she would be good. She had nodded.
Zinsli turned aside and looked down the road the way they had come. The road was clear. He looked back and found Jo was missing. He saw her below, scrambling down the bank. He set off after her, crashing through the ferns and grass and small bushes.
Jo made it as far as the water. She intended to swim downstream. Bur Zinsli caught her by the arm just as she entered the water. She tried to pull her arm free but Zinsli was too strong. The rifle swung round on its sling and crashed against her. It hurt. Jo stopped struggling.
"Do that again and I'll shoot you," said Zinsli. Jo believed him.
"Go in front of me. I can shoot you if you run away," he said.
Jo slipped down the bank. The long struggle up the bank seemed only a short drop now. The evening light was fading, making the bottom of the slope dark with a silver ban of water reflecting the light from the sky. Jo summed up the risk of running away, or swimming strongly downstream. She decided that the risk was too high.
Philip was close behind her. "Wade across the stream," he said as he prodded her in the back with a finger. "Go on. Move."
Jo began to feel her way with her feet. The water was muddy not clear; she could not see the bottom, which felt uneven. Philip slipped on a rock, offering Jo a slim chance of getting away. He splashed wildly but recovered his balance and her chance passed. She waited at the foot of the opposite bank.
"Start climbing," said Philip.
Although the evening air was sultry, the running water brought a chill. Jo gave an involuntary shiver . She was glad to start climbing as this might give her a chance to run off into the dark. She was younger and must be fitter than Zinsli, who was at least twice her age. She found, however, that Zinsli was more than a match for her. He was fast and very strong, staying right behind her no matter how hard she tried to outpace him.
At the top of the bank Jo stopped for a rest. She was puffing with the effort she had made. Zinsli hardly seemed affected at all by their exertions.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"You're talking now, are you?" he commented.
Jo could have bitten her tongue off.
"Only when I need to know something. Where are we going? Kidnapping a girl is serious, next in line to murder. I want to know where we are going and what you are going to do."
"Well, Bossy Boots," Philip said, "I'm going to my farm, taking you with me, then we're going to find your parents."
"They are at Somerville's but the Somervilles aren't there. We've used some of their food. In return we've done the evening chores. They must be in town or something."
Jo could see that Philip was pleased with her explanation. Was he making illicit whiskey? Cooking up meth? Hear nothing, see nothing, say nothing.
"How did you get this far?"
"I used Mr Somerville's ATV. But I got it stuck in mud and couldn't get it out on my own."
"Where is it?" asked Zinsli.
"Not far from here," said Jo. The two of then began walking along the farm road. What had seemed a long way earlier in the day did not take them long, even in the dark. Their feet began to sink into soft slimy liquefaction from the earthquake.
"You've got to go up here on the left," said Jo. "Get above this stinky stuff."
Zinsli saw the sense in what Jo had said. He realised that she must be older than the thirteen years he had originally thought. His first impression on seeing her sleeping at the side of the road was of a small and slim child. She had brown hair and unusual blue eyes. When she had stood beside him he realised that she was about five foot five in height. Zinsli wasn't sure if that was tall for a thirteen year old or not, but in brushing against her he realised this was no child.
With Jo in front, they climbed above the earthquake's muddy spew. It took less than Jo's original twenty minute climb before they descended to where the ATV lay on its back.
There was little point in not working as a team. Zinsli put his rifle down.
"Roll it on its side," he said.
The two of them stood side by side against the ATV, Jo at the tray end of the bike and Zinsli at the heavier motor end.
"One, two, three, heave," he said. They both lifted and the side of the ATV began to rise.
Zinsli strained but could lift no higher. "Put it down," he said. "Come to the tray end. We'll use the roll bar like a seesaw."
They manged to lift the ATV quite high by using the roll bar as a fulcrum but they would not be able to turn the ATV over end for end. Instead, the bike fell sideways, on to its side. Then they were able to use the role bar again to roll the ATV on to its wheels.
The effort had generated a feeling of team work. They sat on the ground in the mud with their backs against the wheels of the ATV.
"Good work, mate," said Philip Zinsli.
"I still hate you," said Jo. "Even though we had to work together."
"A fair summary," thought Zinsli. "She's still an enemy." He got up and retrieved his rifle.
"Let's give it a go to get out of here," he said.
Zinsli sat the seat. "Wait a bit for the oil to settle," he said. "Hey, you were only in two wheel drive. This thing should drive out of here quite easily. Has it got a reverse?"
He answered his own question. "Yeah. Here it is."
Jo heard the click-clack of the manual gearbox. Richard had shown her how to change gear, but had told her he could leave it in a lower gear and not bother with the gears. Jo wished he had told her the ATV was in two wheel drive.
"Let's try it," said Zinsli. The electric starter turned the single cylinder over smartly, resulting in a smooth idle.
"I'll put it in four wheel drive," he said. The ATV inched forward. Zinsli used the gears to rock the ATV backwards and forwards, then he said, "I need some weight on the back."
Jo climbed on the tray behind Zinsli. The bike began to move slowly backwards. Zinsli kept the speed of the motor down, the low speed torque of the Honda motor handling the load without a problem.
"We're clear now," said Zinsli. "My place next. Hold on."
On her knees, Jo put her arms around Zinsli's chest. The rifle that was slung across his back stuck into her and hurt, but it also separated her a little from Zinsli. As a young woman she was acutely aware of the man's physique, his easy confidence and charming good looks. As a girl she felt intimidated and a little frightened. She needed to hold on as Zinsli increased speed and the ATV bumped and swayed along the roadway so she endured the discomfort. An idea occurred to her. She freed one arm and felt for the magazine lock. The gun was well serviced and the lock opened. With a wiggle as if she was changing position, she withdrew the magazine and let it drop to the road. Zinsli might find it in the morning but at this hour of the night it was unlikely.
At the fork in the road, Zinsli stopped to check his mail. Jo almost burst out laughing at the incongruity. There was nothing as there had been no deliveries due to the earthquake. Zinsli climbed back on to the driver's seat and drove up the narrow gravel road to his house. Jo looked at the wooden house with its long verandah and overhanging corrugated iron roof. It was quite a charming house but as the ATV swept around the back of it, Jo could see the earthquake had spilled windows out on to the ground and the roof sagged dangerously.
"Bugger," said Zinsli. "Didn't expect that."
He tied Jo's hands behind her back again. Then he fastened the loose end around part of the frame of the ATV, saying "Wait" as if she were one of his dogs.
"What's the time?" she asked.
"Just after eleven," he replied.
He went to the door. It was stuck so he tried no longer. He came past Jo and climbed through the opening left by the smashed window. He was shocked by the damage the earthquake had caused. He checked that the power was on. It wasn't. He wondered if Sally was still alive. If she had died before Greg there could be complications. The store room door was locked. He banged on the door but there was no response. He went to get the key but it wasn't on the key board. Others were, so somebody had been there. Keeping the girl Jo might have been a very wise thing to do.
Philip slipped out of the house through the broken window, walked past Jo, who was still tied up, then hurried round to the kennels. The dogs were settled.
Greg and Ashleigh was his next stop. He went to the shed to find them. There was no truck. It had gone. The freezer cable had been disconnected. The light switch showed power was still off. Tyre marks at the door showed in the mud where water had spilled off the truck, softening the dirt.
Sally had gone. The freezer truck with Ashleigh and Greg had gone. There was no-one else around. Sally must have driven the truck, attempting to get away. But Zinsli had not seen the truck on the road down to the Te Kouka Bridge. Sally must have driven to her old place, not realising that Greg and Ashleigh were in the back.
Philip had a nasty feeling about his plans. The bridge was down and the road was blocked by his pick-up truck and the gap in the road. Whoever had been there was still there. Jo had mentioned only her mother and father. Was she lying?
Philip went back to the ATV. Jo was still there and obviously was feeling cold.
"Who was with you?" Philip asked.
Jo hesitated for a second. She didn't want to name Lance. Philip noticed her hesitation.
"In the earthquake? Just Mum, Dad and me."
"You're lying. Who was with you when you came here?"
"I have never been here before."
"What are your parents' names?"
"Richard and Alex. Alex is my Mum, not a man."
"There was someone else. Who was it?"
Philip grabbed her hair and twisted it. Jo squealed. Then Philip untied her from the frame of the ATV. He put her arm behind her back and twisted it as far up her back as he could. It hurt so much that Jo screamed.
"I'll ask you again. Who was with you?"
"Just Mum and Dad."
'What about here?"
'I've never been here before."
He twisted her arm until the pain was excruciating.
"Who was with you on the ATV?"
"Lance."
Philip relaxed his hold a little.
"You've lost him," he said. "That's why you asked if I'd seen a ten year old boy."
"Yes, yes," said Jo. "He's autistic. He's out there just wandering around."
Zinsli realised that Lance posed no threat. He simply could not communicate. But there had to be a change of plan now three others were involved. Greg and Ashleigh were dead already Tie the others up and set fire to the house. Scatter some drug stuff around; the police would leap to the conclusion that they had been high when the electric heater was left against the furniture. In Summer?
"No," he thought, "the house had a coal range. The electric power supply had been cut off so Greg and Sally used the coal range to cook on, some coals dropped out when they and their visitors were high, Q.E.D."
Sally he would lock away for twenty four hours, then bury her on the farm, just as he had buried Georgina. How tragic; while Philip was in Grantville repairing his pick-up truck his wife fell into a chasm, breaking her neck. He had done just that to a man in a mental hospital; broken his neck then pushed him off a terrace.
Zinsli stood behind Jo as he thought things through. He needed Jo to make her parents comply. He would take the ATV back to Greg's house. Her parents would think it was Jo returning. He cold tie her to the frame as he had before.
"Come on Sleeping Beauty," he said. "Time you introduced me to your parents."