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Authors: Gabrielle Lord

BOOK: August
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27 AUGUST

127 days to go

I watched Boges discreetly from behind the heavy curtains. He was walking up the driveway,
wheeling
a pushbike, and carrying two mop buckets and a helmet in one hand. I let him in when he reached the front entrance, where he dropped the cleaning gear and the bike and came inside.

‘Heard anything more?’ he asked.

I shook my head.

I had to admit I was losing faith every day. I refused to believe my sister was dead, but it was so hard to get on with life, day after day, not knowing what to do next. Being completely out of control of a situation.

‘They’ll come through. So when are we going to meet up with Nelson Sharkey?’

‘I’ve spoken to him a couple of times, but I don’t think there’s any point until I’ve had word
from the kidnappers. Unless, of course, one of us finds something out before then. The plan is to doublecross the double-crossers.’

‘Speaking of doubles,’ said Boges. ‘Any more thoughts on Ryan Spencer? Or the white toy dog? Have you had the nightmare since?’

‘It’s not a coincidence, Boges,’ I said, sensing my friend’s cynicism.

‘I believe you, I believe you,’ he repeated. ‘I guess we can investigate that as soon as this trade with the kidnappers takes place. Anyway, I can’t stay; I just wanted to bring the bike over to you, help you get around a little bit faster. It was dumped at the tip, but all it needed was a new link in its chain and air in the tyres. Just watch out for Zombie Two if you’re planning on swinging by either of Sligo’s places.’

From behind the wreck of a rusty yellow
Volkswagen
, I watched Vulkan Sligo’s car yard. Riding the bike over had been so good. I’d left it in bushland a few metres back.

It was very quiet.

At one point, I thought I saw someone
wandering
through the piles of car parts. It made me think about Winter again, searching for the wreck of the car that killed her parents.

But I must have been imagining things.

Oriana de la Force’s place had a little more going on today. Sumo was there, taking boxes in and out of the house. I tried to sneak around to the dark blue Mercedes to get a peek inside one, but it was just too risky.

When he had finished at the house and squeezed himself back into the car to drive off, I decided to follow him.

I had to keep up with him, while also
staying
a good distance away from him. Luckily he stopped at a few consecutive red lights, giving me the chance to keep sight of him.

He first called into a betting shop. Impatiently I waited across the road, by a charity bin, hoping he wouldn’t be in there all day.

About an hour or so later he came out, folding a wad of cash into his wallet. He then proceeded down the road, past five or six shops, and entered a big pharmacy on the corner.

I chained my bike to a pole and wandered down after him on foot. Curious, I watched him through the plate glass front window.

He was wandering up and down the aisles, clutching a jar of vitamins. I was about to hurry away, when I saw someone announce something
from behind the prescription counter–Sumo responded as though his name had been called.

From a dispensary behind the counter the pharmacist gestured to something in a plastic tray. I edged closer and squinted. I couldn’t read what the package said. I needed to get inside.

A buzzer on the door sounded as I walked in. I quickly ducked behind a row of make-up and nail polish, and peered out. I could just make out some of the writing on the side of the box.

Nutrition. Balanced formula. Intravenous.

I’d seen enough. I ran out the door and down the street to my bike. I frantically unbolted the chain, pulled on my helmet, and hopped on, ready to follow Sumo to my sister.

I pulled out my phone.

‘Boges!’ I shouted. ‘It’s Oriana! Oriana has Gabbi!’

An electric charge of excitement went through me. She was alive! There was only one reason Sumo could have been collecting intravenous food. It had to be for Gabbi.

Oriana was one hell of an evil woman, but at least she was making sure that my sister stayed alive.

Sumo walked out of the chemist, package in
tow, and down to the Mercedes. He backed out of his parking spot and drove off.

I pedalled after him like I’d never pedalled before.

The Mercedes was veering towards the
freeway
out of the city.

A large State Road Authority sign overhead warned, ‘No pedestrian or bicycle access’. I ignored it. I didn’t know how I could possibly keep up with him, but there was no way I was going to just give up.

I saw the speed limit–110 kilometres per hour–and started pedalling even harder. It seemed like Sumo was going at least ten
kilometres
over the limit, and in what felt like seconds, I’d lost him. He’d completely
disappeared
from view.

I let the pedals go and just glided along,
sitting
back on the bike and running my hands through my hair in frustration.

29 AUGUST

125 days to go …

‘Yes, Oriana de la Force is the person
responsible
for Gabbi’s kidnapping,’ I repeated to Boges and Winter as we sat around a table at her flat. ‘But Gab’s not being kept at Oriana’s house. Sumo was heading out of the city on the freeway when I lost him, so I’m sure they’re hiding her
somewhere
out of town.’

The three of us were just sitting around,
waiting
for my phone to ring. It was becoming too familiar a scenario. We were all getting fidgety.

When my mobile finally rang, all of us jumped out of our seats.

‘Yes? I’m here,’ I said, fumbling with the phone nervously.

‘If you want your sister back alive,’ said the same distorted, digitised voice from the last call, ‘listen carefully to what I’m about to say.’

‘I’m listening,’ I said, frozen to attention.

‘First of all, tell no-one about this. If you do, we’ll find out, and you do not want that to happen.’

I looked at my two friends. They already knew what was happening. I hoped the kidnapper was referring more to the authorities.

‘Who are you?’ I asked.

The anonymous voice continued as if I hadn’t spoken. ‘Come alone to the town of Billabong. Wait at the Billabong Café–it keeps late hours. Be there by nine pm, and wait until you receive another phone call with instructions on exactly what to do. You must come alone, and unarmed, and bring with you all of the items and
information
you claim to possess. Do you understand? You must be prepared to hand over everything, including yourself. Is that clear?’

‘I get it. But how do I know that you won’t just take me and not return Gabbi?’

The voice didn’t seem to hear or care about my question.

‘The exchange itself will take place on the roadside. You will only be given further
instruction
as you require it. You will be told at the café exactly where to go and not a moment before.’

‘Hang on,’ I said, trying to think fast. ‘If you’re taking me, you can’t just drop Gabbi on the side
of the road in the middle of nowhere! My sister’s in a coma, for crying out loud! The deal is off unless you allow me to bring someone with me. A girl. Someone to collect Gabbi. Someone who will ensure she’s taken home safely.’ I lifted my eyes and looked directly at Winter.

She read the question in them. Solemnly she nodded. New courage surged through me. I had brave friends.

There was silence at the other end of the line, but I could tell that my proposition was being discussed. I strained my ears to try to pick up the murmured consultations.

It seemed to take ages.

Finally, the voice came back. ‘Very well, you may bring a girl along, but if anything goes wrong, and you bring anybody else …’

‘I’ll bring the girl only,’ I said.

‘And no police.’

I couldn’t help but laugh at this. ‘You have to be joking,’ I said. ‘Deal. The Billabong Café. I’ll wait there with the girl. When?’

‘Be there at nine pm on the 31st.’

The line went dead.

‘Dude, I want to be there, too!’

‘I can’t risk anyone else being there on the road or near the road when the exchange takes place. And surely they’ll be watching the
Billabong
Café earlier, making sure I’m only joined by one person.’

‘Well, we’d better start making a plan,’ said Boges. ‘The double doublecross.’

‘Right,’ I said. ‘Let’s meet up with Nelson Sharkey and do just that.’

Nelson gestured to us to join him in the tiny gym office. He was sitting at a computer and wanted to show us something. The four of us crowded around the monitor, staring at a detailed online map.

‘It’s way out west,’ said Nelson, as he zoomed in on the tiny town of Billabong, a place on the banks of the Spindrift River, and on the train line, about ten kilometres from the larger
township
of Melrose.

‘It sure is small,’ said Winter, studying the image on the screen. ‘It only has one main street.’

‘How can we make any plans,’ I asked, ‘when we don’t know where exactly the exchange is going to take place?’

‘We don’t know where it will happen, but we can familiarise ourselves with the location and the general area,’ said Nelson. ‘Get as much
information as we can beforehand and be as
prepared
as possible so that when we do know the location, we can move quickly and confidently. Exchanges like this are often made in remote places where there is little or no traffic. Let’s take a look at Billabong and its surrounding area. They know you’ll be on foot, so it can’t take place too far from the café.’

Nelson moved the picture on the screen to take in more of the surroundings of the tiny country town.

‘That bridge would be the perfect spot,’ he said, pointing to a bridge over the river. ‘Bridges have been used before for this sort of deal. A bridge can be managed more easily–it can be secured–traffic can be blocked with phoney detour signs. Not that there’d be a whole lot of traffic through Billabong. Let’s consider this as a possible site for the exchange.’

‘What’s that?’ I asked, pointing to what looked like another bridge, a smaller one that crossed the river further downstream.

Nelson focused on the small bridge, zooming in on it. Slowly, he nodded. ‘This one is more likely,’ he said. ‘This is the one I’d pick for an exchange. There’d be very little traffic. Looks like it was the original crossing point, before the bigger one was built closer to the township.’

It turned out Billabong only had two bridges, so we felt confident about the two we’d scoped out, and were pretty sure the smaller one would turn out to be the meeting place.

Finally, Sharkey swung around in his chair. ‘OK,’ he said, ‘we have to be ready for anything. Here’s the plan. I’ll take the three of you with me as far as Melrose. Cal, from there you and Winter will take the train to Billabong–I will sort you out with a fake ID, although you
probably
won’t need it there. You two get off and wait at the café. They’ll be watching to make sure you two come alone. Once they’ve called, you must alert me immediately. By that time, I will have arrived at the Billabong Motel, with my
freshly shorn
son here,’ he said, tugging at Boges’s lengthy locks.

‘Freshly shorn?’ Boges scratched his head fiercely.

Any other time I would have laughed out loud. ‘Your turn, Boges,’ I said, ‘for a makeover.’

‘It’s possible they know what you look like,’ said Sharkey, turning to Boges, whose shocked face had brought a smile to Winter’s lips. ‘So I think a pair of clippers would do the trick. You won’t know yourself, and neither will the enemy.’

‘It will suit you,’ said Winter. ‘I’ll do it for you.’

‘As soon as Gabbi is clear of the kidnappers,’

Nelson said, ‘we’ll launch ourselves into the scene in a surprise attack. Boges, you and I will deal with the kidnapper, or kidnappers–if there’s more than one. While we’re doing that, Cal and Winter, you need to focus on getting Gabbi safely into my car. Then we all take off. The whole thing should happen in a matter of seconds so that they won’t know what’s hit them. We only get one chance at this. OK?’

‘OK,’ the three of us agreed in unison.

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