The Worm King (4 page)

Chapter Six

Lazing Around

‘W
e have to go into Katoomba,’ said Astrid.

Winston wasn’t so sure. ‘I thought that
visitor centre was kind of new. If it looks like . . . that,
what do you reckon Katoomba’s going to be like?’

‘Closed,’ stated Dick.

‘Flat,’ added Āmiria.

‘I’ve got a sister in Katoomba,’ said Malisovich
from his seat on an upturned rubbish bin next to the truck door. The twins were
tight-pressed behind him holding an umbrella.

Winston, Dick, Astrid and Āmiria stood
in the rain while the fat drops came hammering straight down. The concrete had
a blue-grey sheen as the puckered rippling water raced steadily downhill, running
away innocently before gliding over the razor edge of the lookout. A hop, step
and a whoooooo, plunging hundreds of feet and tumbling end over end into the
black valley before smacking into the rocks far below. Winston shivered.

Astrid had hauled the spotlight from the
side compartment where Paul stacked it less than two hours ago. It was obvious
she’d done it before, and in a flash had it hooked up to the battery and
repositioned by the truck’s door.

Only one corner of the visitor centre remained
upright and this fortunately sheltered Dick, Astrid, Malisovich and the girls
plus the lantern and pile of penlight torches. Āmiria bought out the
lantern and four of the torches. Malisovich fell through his own shop window
and sustained a nasty cut on his arm.

Winston squinted at Astrid. ‘Shouldn’t we
head straight for Sydney? At least then we can get, well, home.’ Āmiria was
shining her torch in his eyes so he brushed a hand in front of his face and
said, ‘don’t do that.’ Her beam darted away, did a quick circuit of the group
then came to rest on Paul. A Channel Six publicity banner was the best they
could find to lay over him but it became drenched immediately and now clung
revealingly to every bulge. Winston wished they’d laid him further away from
the door, or that they could all move down the other end of the truck so they
didn’t have to look at the corpse although he knew he wouldn’t win any brownie
points with the others by suggesting that. Fair enough, when he carked it he’d
probably be offended too, if people moved away so they didn’t chuck-up when
they looked at him.

‘How’s that cut Mr Malisovich?’ asked
Astrid.

‘Oh. Fine thank you. Bleeding again, yes, I
think. Hang on.’ He was nursing his arm in a towel and took a peek into the
folds. ‘Yes, not too much, but some of it, yes some.’

‘We’ve got to get you to a doctor.’

‘My flatmate’s a med student,’ said Winston.
Azziz might struggle to fix Peter and Paul though.

‘We need to get to Sydney, he’s right,’ confirmed
Dick. ‘But first we should check up the hill, see how the town’s faired. People
might need help. It’s the decent thing to do.’ He looked at Winston, shook his
head and frowned.

Winston nodded and tried to appear agreeable
but Āmiria’s beam shone in his eyes again so he suspected he just came
across as furtive and angry.

‘Let’s have a gander at it,’ said Astrid,
getting down in front of Malisovich. ‘Winston, make yourself useful and hold
that umbrella.’ One of the twins passed him the brolly, which left both girls
exposed to the rain. ‘You two should wait in the truck.’

‘I’ll see if the phones are back up,’ said
Dick. ‘Come on ladies, let’s adjourn indoors.’ One giggled and nudged the other
and Winston was surprised at their resilience so soon after the tragedy.

Dick led the pair into the truck.

Winston held the umbrella up at full stretch
like a wet, miniature Statue of Liberty. He peered up the hill towards Katoomba.
No lights were visible but that could be the rain. Or the earthquake. And why
did the power go off
before
the earthquake? Maybe an earlier quake they
didn’t feel knocked out a substation, or power line? That might be it. This
wasn’t supposed to be an earthquake area, but what did he know? Maybe it’s got
something to do with all the rain.

And why did the truck and cars stop working
at the same time?

The truck door opened and the twins reappeared
with Dick behind them. ‘Mr Snow wants to film it,’ trilled one of the girls.

‘He said we could be in it and we’ll get our
weather badge,’ said the other. Dick had a camera slung around his neck.

‘Hey Dick, do you think this rain’ll stop
anytime soon? asked Winston.

‘This front, together with the associated
low pressure system may well extend through to the weekend,’ replied Dick
majestically from the steps of the truck. One of the twins clapped and he
winked at her. ‘You should write that down darling.’

‘Did you have any luck with the phones?’
asked Astrid.

‘No.’

Winston had a thought. ‘Hey, Astrid does
your car have a GPS?’

‘Not that I know of. Why?’

‘Nah, probably nothing. Just seems funny how
the cars and truck stopped like that. Wondered if it had something to do with
the GPS. Maybe it shorted the electrics.’

‘It’s got a CD player?’

‘What CD did you have on?’ asked one of the
twins.

‘It was classical. Shostakovich I think, but
that shouldn’t make—’

‘Were you playing it backwards?’ interrupted
Āmiria.

‘No. I wasn’t.’

Winston watched the rain tumble down. Paul
appeared to be moving. He hated looking at the body but every time he did, it
seemed to be creeping away because the lantern’s battery was fading so the
circle of light kept shrinking.

‘What was that?’ said Astrid nervously.

They all froze. ‘Thought I heard something.’
She shook her head.

‘It’ll probably just be the wind,’ reasoned
Dick. Āmiria’s beam lit his grinning face. As far as Winston could tell, there
wasn’t even a hint of a breeze.

Further up the hill a dog howled. ‘When
we’re pighunting and we hear that, usually means it’s been gored,’ said
Āmiria.

‘Do that a lot, do you?’ inquired Winston.

‘Yeah. With me dad and his mates back home. Says
that’s the only reason he makes me do Rangers, so I can get him more pork.’

Rangers? Astrid had said she was a Girl Guide?
Maybe she was tied up with some paramilitary wing of the guides. Instead of
delving into that, Winston asked, ‘Your dad like you being on TV?’

‘He said most of our rellies have been on
Crimewatch, so I should give it a crack.’

‘What do you think so far?’

‘Fucken shithouse.’

‘We have to go into Katoomba,’ repeated
Astrid, frowning.

Chapter Seven

Photo Shoot

T
he rain pelted down relentlessly. Eventually Astrid decided not to
go into Katoomba after all, and thought she ort to stay back with Malisovich
and the girls. So Winston and Dick went alone.

At the brow of the hill where the road up
from the visitor centre joined Echo Point Road, they saw lights. ‘Look, over there.
See?’ said Dick. Each carried a plastic folder from the truck, held flat over
their torches as protection from the rain because one of the other penlights
had already conked out from water penetration.

A car appeared in their path. It sat at an
odd angle as though it’d been travelling uphill then rolled back across the
curb and partly up onto the footpath. They shone their torches inside but it was
empty.

Further up the hill a cluster of lights twinkled
through the downpour. One of the beams brightened for a second as it pointed
directly at them, then flashed away. Another beam slightly further apart from
the others picked them up and waggled back and forth, up and down, obviously trying
to attract their attention.

As they approached the waggly torch-bearer gradually
drifted into focus. At first it looked like some creature with a huge, round,
black head and glowing, triangle-shaped body. Then Winston could make out a
yellow poncho raincoat, topped with an afro over brilliant white teeth and
eyes. The rest of the man’s jet black face blended perfectly into the night. Two
women were on either side of him, both elderly and stooped. At least twenty
others sat in the middle of the street behind the trio. Several of the huddled figures
were small; Winston figured they must be children.

Thirty meters behind them stood a bristly
pyramid which a few hours earlier must’ve been someone’s house. The pile of rubble
cast an eerie silhouette with perhaps ten or a dozen torch beams working over
it like fat, luminous worms trying to burrow in.

‘Quiet, quiet!’ one of the worms shouted. Must
be trying to hear survivors. The rain continued to slap down defiantly,
refusing to give them a break.

The Aborigine smiled. ‘Glad to see you
fellas.’

‘Howdy,’ replied Winston quietly.

‘Good evening,’ proffered Dick loudly, like
he was ordering a steak in a crowded restaurant.

‘I just arrived ten minutes ago. Jean here
says they lookin for people in this guest house, but most other houses all
right. Except some building over the road but ’parently no one in that. And
another one, she fall down up the street. Jean reckons they got enough blokes
lookin in here now.’ He paused. ‘Only the two of you?’

‘There’s four others at the Three Sisters Centre
down the road. We just walked up from there,’ replied Winston. ‘What’s left of
it anyway.’

‘Leroy.’ He held out his hand.

‘Dick Snow.’ Leroy shook Dick’s hand, then
Winston. His palm felt unusually padded and warm. A dog barked nearby, ending in
a hollow, drawn-out wail.

‘That’s Peanuts. He’s in me van.’

‘Is it working?’ asked Dick.

‘No. He sit around the house all day, scratching
his arse.’

‘The van I mean.’

‘Oh. Yeah mate. Couple other cars stop I saw.
I tried to help a fella with me jumper cables and couldn’t get his going but. We
saw an old lorry drive past though, just a while ago. It was—’

A deep rumble rose from below then a moment
later the earth jolted violently. Rock grated angrily against rock in a series
of short, vicious jerks. Winston bent his knees, crouching and trying to hold balance.
The crowd gasped in unison, many began moaning and a child screamed. After five
or six seconds, the tremors stopped.

‘Quiet, quiet!’ The shout came again from
the ex-guesthouse. Winston thought he may have heard a muffled call back but it
might’ve just been the earth settling and the rain seemed heavier making it hard
to tell.

Dick was the first to regain composure. ‘Is
anyone’s phone working?’ he asked without any effort whatsoever to lower his
voice.

Leroy looked confused. ‘Phone?’

Jean stared quizzically at Dick as though
she recognized him. ‘Are you on a cooking program?’

Dick stood up the front beside Jean and
Leroy and told the group they’d had a decent little earthquake. His boofy, wet
hair was slicked back in a way that reminded Winston of those old Nazi war
documentaries. Dick reckoned, from feel of it, they’d been unlucky enough to be
smack on the epicenter. More than likely it was confined to this particular area
of the Blue Mountains. Seven point five, maybe eight on the Richter. Ambo’s won’t
be far off even if they have to come from Sydney. If there’ve been no more
tremors in the next couple of hours, everyone should be right to go back to their
houses and get out of this damp. He paused and smiled reassuringly.

‘We’re taking Asha here, then we have to
collect some others who need help down at the visitor centre and we’re going to
the hospital. We’ll let the hospital know you’re all here and they’ll be along
in a jiffy.’

Asha lay on the road with her left leg twisted
around ninety degrees, the knee grossly swollen and purple. She couldn’t stand
on it and her face was contorted into a painful grimace. ‘We really have to get
her to a doctor,’ pleaded Jean. ‘Another fellow has a hurt back and can’t feel
his feet, so I’m not sure if we should even move him . . . but
laying out in the rain can’t be good either, can it?’

‘I’ll have a look at him,’ offered Dick. ‘Where’s
your van?’ he asked Leroy, who pointed his torch up the hill. The square
outline of the vehicle shimmied through the rain, barely visible and parked
dead centre of the road. Dick swung his penlight into Asha’s distressed face. ‘Think
you two can get her loaded up?’

Winston and Leroy splashed uphill to the van.
The barking started again and when Leroy pulled open the creaky rear door, the
dog immediately jumped down.

‘
Rooof! Rrrrrooof!
’ Before Winston
could step back he found two hairy paws on his chest and a furry face stretched
up to check him out. He pushed the dog away but not before giving it a quick
scratch behind the ears.

The back seats of the Volkswagen had been
removed to make way for a double mattress which rested on a home-made raised
platform. The bed completely filled the interior behind the front seats. A
small gas stove was bolted to one wall, clothes heaped untidily everywhere and
the side windows blacked out with paint.

Leroy began unstrapping a surfboard from the
roof. ‘We can use this to carry her over.’

Getting her loaded up wasn’t as easy as
anticipated. With Leroy at the front and Winston at the back, the board tilted
sharply. Asha gripped the sides while Winston raised his arms and Leroy lowered
his but there was still no way to stop her sliding. For Winston, it was either Asha’s
legs akimbo around his face, or take her foot in his head. He took the foot
well, forehead thrust out like Ronaldo driving a fifty meter header into the
net with thirty seconds to go in a cup final and scores tied. Winston most certainly
didn’t want a face full of Asha’s legs akimbo.

They hoisted her into the van. Leroy reached
back and grabbed Winston’s end then pushed. The board slid in as far as the
fins then she managed to shuffle off onto the bed. Cushioned against Leroy’s dirty
clothes she looked comfortable enough, but stretched out diagonally like that took
up most of the room too.

‘Peanuts’ll keep you company.’ Leroy patted
the mattress and the dog obediently leapt in then sat on it’s haunches, long
tongue hanging out, staring at Asha. ‘We won’t be long.’ He gently closed the
door, clicking it into place.

A flash of light caught Winston’s eye. Then
another. He gazed skyward hoping the streetlights were sparking up but it’d came
from over where they’d left Jean and the others.

One of the rescuers had to leave the ruined guest
house because his torch was failing. He wore only shorts and a cotton singlet
and kept shivering. They’d found a hand poking out from under a concrete block which
they weren’t able to shift. He said all the fingernails were broken right back
so the person must’ve been alive for a while and they’re going to keep looking.

The hand wasn’t moving anymore and the man in
the singlet couldn’t stop trembling.

‘Say Cheese,’ called Dick.
Pop!
For
an instant everyone was illuminated. Dirty, wet faces staring up at him, eyes
wide and mouths open in disbelief. They had no communication with the outside
world and the very earth was shaking under them; whimpering and flogged relentlessly
by the rain.

‘And again.’
Pop!
‘One more.’
Pop!
Pop!

Pop!

Pop!

Winston squeezed in the front of the van between
Dick and Leroy for the short drive back down to the visitor centre.

‘Do you think the ambulances will be even
running?’

‘Fucked if I know,’ grunted Dick.

‘Mr Snow!’ exclaimed one of the twins when
they pulled up. ‘You’re back! Yaaay! We knew you’d save us.’

‘I sure will honey.’

Twenty minutes later they were on the road. Winston
looked at his watch: quarter past midnight. At last, heading back to Sydney, that
was good. But packed like a sardine in this dodgy old heap—not so good. And
they’ll be travelling on wet, dangerous roads which will’ve been buggered up by
that earthquake. He’d never liked driving in the rain full stop.

He didn’t like sitting next to Mr Snow much either.