BACKWOODS RIPPER: a gripping action suspense thriller (6 page)

Lizzy was crazy, but she was right, it had been his idea to drive to the South West without any real plan. He’d wanted a few more weeks, just the two of them, before the baby arrived. It was selfish of him, and now Paige had to pay the price.
We could’ve just spent a week at a lodge, why did I insist on discovering the Wild West?
The simple answer, he wanted to be free one last time before the baby took over their lives.

A haze crawled over his conscious mind, trying to pull him down into the dark. He tried to force himself to remain alert, didn’t deserve the comfort of oblivion, not while his wife and unborn baby struggled to find help. Thirty seconds later, sleep took him.

* * *

“Where is she?” The words hit him like a slap. He remembered Lizzy slapping him earlier and opened his eyes.

The sunlight waned. Long shadows cast by the window spread a gloom. He shifted his head left and saw Lizzy standing over him. Looking up at her, the loose creases of skin under her chin framed angry spots of red filling her cheeks.

“She’s gone,” Lizzy said. “And I bet you put her up to it.”

He tried to think of something to say, but his thoughts were scattered and his mouth felt packed with cotton wool. Lizzy moved to the end of the bed and pulled back the sheets. He winced as the cool air hit his leg.

“Grab his shoulders.”

He tried to sit up and ask whose shoulders she meant, but something slid under his neck. It took him a moment to realise someone else stood in the room. A face swam above him. He took in a slack mouth and dark empty eyes. The thick smell of eggs and unwashed hair filled his nostrils. He grimaced and tried to pull away, but the woman with her arm under his neck held tight.

He knew he had the strength to shake her off, but as he struggled, hands wrapped around his ankles. His legs lifted and all thoughts of resistance vanished. A sheet of agony enveloped him; he screamed.

“No. No don’t,” he heard himself begging, and almost didn’t recognise his own voice.

Hal felt himself being lifted off the bed. The bones in his lower leg ground together and the world darkened. He seemed to hang in mid-air for a moment and then his butt hit something, the rest of his body quickly followed. He tried to rock forward and grab his leg, but his shoulders were pressed down. Something slid across his body and he felt pinned in place.

He looked above him and could see faces. Lizzy’s and the other woman’s floating eerily. He began to understand that he was on a stretcher and a fleeting memory of being in this position before came to him.

“What are you doing?” He managed to get the words out through clenched teeth.

Lizzy glanced down and regarded him with emotionless, shark eyes. “That snake bite’s infected. We need to take your leg off or it’ll kill you.”

The words sliced through the pain.
Did she say “take your leg off?”
Yellow ceiling sped by; the trolley was moving.

“You’re not cutting my leg off,” he shrieked and pushed against the restraints that held him on the stretcher.

A door banged and he was in another room. The powerful smell of bleach stung his nose. A large metal sink loomed on his right. He turned his head and saw a silver trolley laid out with evil looking instruments – in the centre, a hack-saw. It had a solid handle, the blade slightly rusty.

“No.” It came out as more of a scream than a word.

Lizzy’s face appeared above him. She leaned so close that for one crazy moment, he thought she meant to kiss him. He could smell her sour breath.

“Settle down. I’m only taking the lower leg.

Chapter Eight

Paige pulled on the sides of her denim jacket and grabbed the phone out of her bra so she could check the time: nearly midday. Forty minutes since leaving Mable House. Snatches of pale blue sky were visible above the canopy. A crispness hung in the air that the weak glimpses of sunlight did nothing to warm.

When she’d snuck out the back door, Lizzy was upstairs and Soona nowhere in sight. Paige worked her way around the house until she made it back to the ute, then grabbed her jacket out of the back and headed to the left side of the house, avoiding the entry road at the front of the building. Her plan had been to duck into the bush and try to walk parallel to the road.

The uneven terrain and scattered debris from the trees made walking a challenge. She looked back over her shoulder. Behind her, as ahead, only scraggy looking shrubs, twisted trees, and deep native grass flourished. All around her patches of pink, purple, and yellow wildflowers poked their heads up in recognition of the spring sunshine. Paige supposed the setting might be considered pretty, and under different circumstances she’d likely stop and enjoy the wildness of it all. But for the moment, all she could think about was water.

She didn’t bring any with her, telling herself not to waste time trying to find something to carry it in.
What a mistake that had been.
Her throat felt dry and her lips cracked. She tried to remind herself that a human being could go for three days without water, but her parched tongue told her otherwise. She thought of the Esky sitting in the back of the Ford: cans of cola and bottles of water inside. All would be warm by now, but even warm they’d taste wonderful to her sandy mouth.

She heard a crackle and scanned the long grass ahead for signs of movement, but found it impossible to tell if anything slithered beneath the thick foliage. Paige looked to her left and could make out the edge of the road between the trees. If she tried walking closer, she’d be torn to pieces on the thorny branches of the yellow bushes blooming there. Those bushes reminded her of everything else about his place. They looked appealing and harmless, but close up they were surprisingly sharp.

She sidestepped the area where she’d heard the rustling and continued forward. The drive from the cheese factory had taken about twenty minutes so, she guessed the walk back would take about an hour and ten.
Under normal circumstance
. Yes, if she were walking on the road and had some water, but struggling around thorny bushes and over fallen branches while grappling with thirst was a different story.

At the rate she progressed, she wouldn’t reach the car for at least another hour. She wondered how Hal was holding up. He’d done his best to seem calm, but Paige heard the pain in his voice. He’d tried to talk her out of fixing the car, but they both knew it was the only way. She prayed he’d be okay, and that God would help her be strong enough to reach the car and do what she had to. She didn’t know what Lizzy might be capable of or if the woman really
was
dangerous, but her gut told her she had to get Hal out of that house. The baby moved, a slow shifting unlike anything she’d felt before. Paige took it as a sign of agreement and picked up the pace.

She checked her phone again, looking for the time and the dim possibility of a signal. She puffed out a deep breath, ten after-twelve and no lit bars. She slipped the phone back in her bra and moved on. Her feet were swollen inside her shoes and her back strained as if under the weight of a ton of bricks, but the worst part had to be the itch growing around her calves. She guessed it was from insect bites and the constant friction of dry grass against her skin.
Why the hell did I wear a short sundress?
Because
, she answered herself,
you thought you were going to be spending yesterday enjoying some alone time with your hubby, not slogging through the bush looking for help
.

When she made it to the car, the first thing she’d do, after drinking a few litres of water, was rub some Soothe on her legs. Another little promise she made to herself, another reward for taking one more painful step and then another.

To keep her mind occupied and stop herself thinking about water and snakes and all things fangs-ridden inhabiting the bush, she went over the steps Hal had taught her;
lift the tyre in place, put on the lug nuts in a star pattern. Next, tighten them lightly using her fingers, then put the remaining nuts on and tighten all using the torque wrench …
It sounded simple. Hal made it sound easy. Paige swallowed and her throat rasped.

She needed to rest. Her heart thundered, labouring to pump the increased volume of blood around her body. Her breathing came in shallow puffs, and she neared the edge of exhaustion. Paige took another step; her foot caught on a piece of dead wood and she stumbled forward. Hands splayed out, she landed on them and her knees.

Hitting the ground with a jolt, her left hand landed centimetres from a jagged stick jutting from a fallen branch. Something shifted under her right hand, wet and slick. She pulled back and made a sound of disgust. Her hand came away coated in blackish red goo. Where she’d landed lay the rotting remains of what might have been a galah. The bird’s stomach had burst and clusters of maggots writhed around the spill of intestines.

Paige shrieked, scuttling backward on her hands and knees. She could feel the sludge on her palm, sticky and wet. Leaning back on her knees, she rubbed her hand on the fallen leaves. Finally daring to look, her palm was stained brown and smelt thick with decay. Her stomach lurched and she spent the next few minutes heaving up a mixture of water and chunks of bread.

When she managed to stop gagging, she spat and wiped her arm across her mouth. The smell of her hand set off another wave of nausea. Her stomach clenched and her eyes watered, but mercifully the vomiting subsided. Paige sat back, ignoring the crunching leaves under her weight, and tried not to think about whatever insects might be crawling just out of sight.

She closed her eyes and took three, deep, shuddering breaths. She had to keep it together, stay calm, even though her skin crawled and she had the urge to run screaming back to the house.
It’s just a dead bird for Christ’s sake.
Trying to stand, the movement set off waves of dizziness that made her head spin. She knew she couldn’t afford to risk another fall, if she hadn’t caught herself and landed on her hands and knees, her stomach would’ve hit the ground. What then?
I’d have hurt my baby
.

She drew her knees up as far as her belly would allow and lowered her head. Paige knew she should be moving, keeping her momentum going, but her body felt tired and sluggish. If she pushed any harder the baby would be the one to suffer. Trying to sort out the possibilities in her mind, she gave her head a shake. If she didn’t hurry, Lizzy would notice her absence and … Her thinking faltered. What would Lizzy do?
Take it out on Hal.
Hadn’t she known all along that’s what might happen?

It seemed crazy, but she pictured Lizzy smashing that egg on Soona’s forehead. The action so sudden and cruel,
it was scary
.
Scary. That’s the word that best described Lizzy. You saw it the minute she stopped the car,
a small voice in her head whispered. Yes, Paige had seen it, but that little spark of recognition, the feeling in the pit of your stomach that tells you you’re in danger, was no match for panic and desperation. So she’d pushed the warning voice aside and grasped onto the offer of help. She thought of a line from an old movie, something about relying on the kindness of strangers.
Whoever thought of that never met Lizzy Hatcher.

A bird squawked above. Paige lifted her head to a lone galah sitting in the low branches of a silver gum. It ruffled its grey and pink feathers and let out another cry. She wondered if it called to its dead mate. Her vision blurred with tears until the bird became no more than a fuzzy pink blob. The mournful sound of its cry touched her soul, and all the frustration and fear tumbled out in jagged sobs.

Eventually the tears subsided and Paige climbed to her feet. Hal depended on her to bring help, and she would do it if she had to walk all day. She checked left and could still see the edge of the road. Up ahead, the bush appeared dense and impenetrable, she’d have to go farther away from the road if she hoped to get through. Shrugging deeper into her jacket, Paige veered to the right.

Within minutes she came to a clearing, thick yellowish grass and wild flowers blanketed the ground, but the spikey shrubs and crouching trees were less tightly packed. The sun lit up the area like a spotlight, and for a moment, Paige paused and drank it in. Walking seemed blessedly easier now and the way was more direct. A tendril of worry crept into her mind,
what if I’ve strayed too far from the road?
The thought of being in the bush, in the dark, sent a flutter of panic through her. She decided to walk until she reached a cluster of grass trees that looked to be a few hundred metres ahead, and then she’d head back to the left.

When Paige approached the trees, she noticed something grey just beyond them. Not the washed-out grey of dead branches, but something metallic winking in the light. She pushed on past the grass trees and caught a whiff of peppermint. Her heart beat a little faster and she tried to pick up her pace. Wattle trees blocked her path so she pushed around to the right where she found a gap in the scrub. She had to lift her knees up and hop over some low hanging fronds. As she stumbled free, she found the metallic object that had caught her attention – the rim of a sagging cyclone wire-fence, and behind it what she knew must be the back of the cheese factory.

Paige grabbed the edge of the fence and squeezed, just to make sure it was real. She gave a little cry of triumph and then laughed at her own delight.
I made it, I got here. The nightmare’s nearly over.
If she’d had the energy, she would’ve danced. Instead she clambered over the fence that now sagged to knee-level, and headed around the building.

Her pulse raced, she felt breathless, but energised. Paige wiped her forehead with her sleeve and followed the line of the building. The smell of peppermint was stronger now. She pictured the Ford standing under the trees with the doors open, their suitcases piled around the gaping hatch. For a split second she actually saw it. The burnt orange paintwork glittering under the sun’s rays. The blue Esky with the white top sitting on the ground, beads of moisture rolling down the plastic sides.

But the image in her mind became a trick of her imagination, the ghost of what should’ve been. She rounded the corner of the building and stared, mouth open, at the empty carpark. The car and everything in it were gone. The cluster of peppermint trees with their branches rustling in the wind stood sentry over a vacant lot.

“You fucking bitch,” Paige whispered and sunk to her knees.