Beyond Fear (11 page)

‘They must have gone,’ Jodie said, still looking out. ‘Or maybe they saw us and turned their torches off.’

‘It’s probably just the two campers who were here earlier,’ Hannah said.

‘Exactly.’

‘Let’s not go there again.’ Hannah flung open a stretch of curtain. ‘I’m going to try my phone.’

Jodie grabbed the billowing fabric, yanked it back across the window. ‘Don’t go out there.’

Obstinacy flashed across Hannah’s face. She took a sideways step to move around Jodie.

‘Don’t, Hannah. Somebody’s out there. Watching us.’

‘Oh come on, Jodie.’ Hannah said it with a half-laugh, almost a scoff. ‘It’s just someone going for a walk. If there really is someone.’ She moved past Jodie trying to find the next break in the curtains. ‘I’m going out to ring Pete.’

Jodie felt a surge of panic. What was with Hannah? Why push the issue? ‘It’s not safe out there.’

‘Fine, then I’ll go out the front door.’ Hannah turned on her heel, marched across the room. Jodie had seen Hannah leave hospital staff in her wake with a march like that. Had been thankful for it the day she’d rushed into Emergency after Isabelle came off her bike. But now there was plenty of reason to stop her.

As she moved to go after her, Louise grabbed her arm. ‘Leave her. Whatever was out there is gone now.’

‘Don’t you believe me?’

‘I don’t know what you saw but whatever it was, it’s not there now.’ She shrugged apologetically. ‘Come back and sit down. Where’s the wine?’

‘I don’t want any more wine.’ Jodie looked over to where Hannah had left the front door open. Bloody Hannah. Be safe out there. She crossed the room, stood by the open door.

As Louise watched her with concern from the curtains, Jodie poked her head cautiously out the door, looked left and right along the verandah. Hannah was nowhere in sight. Shit.

She stepped back inside, unsure what to do next. She wanted to go and find Hannah but if she was just around the corner having a private chat with Pete, Jodie’s appearance might make her even more annoyed. On the other hand, if she didn’t, whoever had been out there might silently grab her off the verandah and whisk her away before they even knew she was gone.

She looked around for something she could arm herself with. There was a writing desk by the door – dried flowers in a large glass vase, a small brass Buddha, a pair of wooden candlesticks. Jodie picked up the Buddha, held it in her palm like a cricket ball.
How determined are you to defend yourself?
That was the question Jodie asked her students. Or, in this case, how determined was she to defend a friend? Enough to throw a lump of brass at someone’s head? Hell, yes. She stepped back to the door and collided with Hannah.

They both gasped.

Hannah said, ‘Not the bogeyman, Jode. Just me.’

Jodie pulled her inside, shut the door and locked it.

‘No reception out there, either,’ Hannah told the three of them. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold and she was slightly breathless. ‘I went all the way around on the verandah. Nothing. I was going to walk up the hill a bit but Jodie scared the crap out of me with all the “someone’s watching you” stuff. I’ll call in the morning.’ She put her phone on the writing desk and noticed the Buddha in Jodie’s hand. ‘What are you doing with that? Planning to beat up someone? That could be bad karma.’

Jodie laughed stiffly, feeling a little stupid. ‘Oh, ah, no. I was just looking at it. It’s kind of cute, don’t you think?’ She put it down, rubbed sweaty hands on her trousers.

Hannah looked at her for a second, concern mixed with the irritation. ‘Try to relax a little. Everything’s fine. See if you can have some fun with the rest of us.’ She turned and joined the others around the fire.

‘Wine’s open. Are you having another?’ Corrine called.

Jodie looked at the three of them sprawled on the lounges, Corrine sipping, Hannah popping chocolate in her mouth, Louise with her feet on the armrest, and knew she’d had enough. She was wound up, her stomach felt vaguely nauseous, her shoulders were tight, her mood even tighter.

‘No, thanks. I think I’ll go to bed.’ She saw their faces, knew what they were thinking. It was bad form to go to bed early on the first night of their weekend away. Not that midnight was early. In fact, on an average Friday night she’d be thinking how late it was. But when they were away, it was a ritual to stay up late, get drunk, sleep in, be stupid, swear a little – a salute to all the stuff they couldn’t do at home. But she needed some time out. She couldn’t tell anymore if she was overreacting or if everyone else was being reckless. ‘Sorry to ruin the party but I don’t seem to be in the right frame of mind tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll sleep it off and be more fun tomorrow. Promise.’

Jodie claimed the bed that gave her a view of both the window and the door. She slid the tyre iron underneath it and looked briefly behind the curtain before climbing under the covers. It took her a long time to fall into a restless sleep. Her head spun with a combination of alcohol and angst. She dreamt of being strong and athletic, repelling threats with her bare hands, then a second later was aggressive and paranoid and Lou and Hannah and Corrine were laughing at her.

Some time after two am, she heard the girls moving about in the hallway. Louise climbed into the other bed in the room not long after.

Later still, when the barn was quiet and dark, Jodie woke again. Thunder rumbled and growled in the distance and she imagined storm clouds gathering and jostling over the hill. As she listened, the thunder grew louder. More regular, more mechanical. Then it didn’t sound like thunder at all but like the guttural rumble of a large car engine. A souped-up motor or a big V8. The kind the boys at school drooled over when an older friend pulled up.

She checked the time on her mobile phone beside the bed – three-thirteen – and lay with her eyes open, listening in the darkness. The rumbling got closer. Very close. So close it sounded like it was outside the barn. She sat up, ignored the sudden chill, kept perfectly still, straining her ears.

Yes, it was a car. Or a vehicle of some sort. Big, throaty. And it was outside the lounge room.

No, it was moving along the back of the barn. Past the kitchen, past the bathroom across the hall. Her breath was so loud in her ears it was hard to pinpoint the position. She thought she heard a pause and a change in gear as it rounded the end of the barn. She held her breath, opened her eyes wider in the darkness.

It turned the corner and the noise was instantly clearer – a deep, throaty gurgle. Jodie watched the wall, following the sound with her eyes at it moved slowly past her bedroom. No lights, no voices. Just guttural rumble. Then the soft crunch of gravel as it passed over the parking pad below the front door.

Jodie stood beside the bed, her heart thumping against her ribs. She couldn’t remember actually getting out of bed or when she’d picked up the tyre iron but she must have been there a while because her arm ached from holding it.

Who the hell just drove around the barn?

She swallowed in a dry mouth. Okay, Jodie, don’t overreact. Think it through.

The campers? The people with the weird lights?

At this time of night?

It didn’t make sense. And that scared her.

What scared her more was the rumble inching up the revs as it turned the corner and started down the back side of the barn for a second time.

Her feet did a small, undecided dance on the floor. She was cold, she was more than a little anxious but she wanted to see what was out there.

She tiptoed across the hall to the bathroom, stepped into the spa bath. Her finger shook as it tilted a blade on the Venetian blind over the window. Blood pounded in her ears as a formless patch of darkness moved past the window.

She prayed for it to keep going, right on out into the bush. It didn’t. It paused, changed down a gear, turned the corner. She tiptoed back across the hall to the bedroom, flattened herself against the wall beside the window, slipped a finger behind the white curtain, inched it away from the glass and waited for the rumble to come around the corner.

The vehicle was big and chunky and dark coloured. She couldn’t make out any more detail than that as it prowled slowly past the window a few metres beyond the verandah.

Shit, shit. Was the front door locked? She’d locked it when Hannah came in but maybe someone went out afterwards. What about the back? She hadn’t checked all the glass. Were they fixed panels or windows and doors? Security glass or the kind you could break with a quick tap from a spanner?

She sprinted on frozen toes to the lounge room. All the curtains were closed. She dashed to the front door, tried the locks – one on the handle, a deadlock above. Both engaged. She pressed an ear to the solid timber, heard the crunch of gravel, then just rumbling again as it drove back onto the grass. She waited, trembling, for it to round the corner.

It didn’t. It stopped. The engine gurgled. She held her breath.

What? What the hell are you doing now?

The answer came thirty long seconds later when it started moving again. Away. The rumble got louder as the vehicle picked up speed, then quieter as the distance grew.

Jodie stood by the door a few minutes more, her pulse racing, her mouth dry as paper. Then she went to the kitchen, pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and drank it dry.

Goddamn it. What was that all about?

She checked every window and door in the barn, tiptoeing into Hannah and Corrine’s bedroom then back out to the hall. A few steps into the narrow space and she froze. A loud growl reverberated around the barn. But this time it was thunder. Rocking and rolling up the valley.

As she climbed into bed, lightning flashed briefly then heavy rain hit the metal roof, roaring overhead like a plane. She pulled the quilt up, listened with her eyes wide open and thought about the coincidence of two men followed by two torches followed by a deep-throated car.

Who was out there?

11

Jodie’s wrists hurt. The skin is tearing. She can feel it. But she keeps pulling on the rope. Hurting and pulling. She knows Angela is alive. The whites of her eyes keep disappearing in the dark then reappearing. Large, round, scared. Angie is blinking. Jodie is crying.

‘Angela,’ Jodie whispers. ‘Angie. I got my hands free.’

Angela whimpers.

Jodie is crawling through the dark to her. ‘We’ve got to run, Angie.’

‘I can’t.’

Angela is bleeding. She is sticky and wet with it. Something is wrong with her leg.

Jodie is too frightened to breathe. Too frightened to stay. Too frightened to go. She squeezes Angie’s hand. ‘The road’s just through the trees. I can run that in under a minute. Flag someone down. Get help.’

‘I tried to fight.’

‘I know. You fought real hard, Ang.’

‘Run, Jodie. Before they come back.’

Jodie runs. As fast as she can. Her feet pounding. Over dirt and grass and rocks. Men are shouting behind her. Feet are pounding. Angie’s screaming.

‘No,’ Jodie cries. Hands grab her. Pound her. She can’t breathe. ‘No. No!’

‘Jodie. Jodie, wake up.’

It was Louise. Standing over her, shaking her awake.

Jodie wiped her face with trembling hands. She was sitting up in bed, the quilt was on the floor, her pyjama top was wet with sweat.

‘Are you all right?’ Lou asked, looking worried.

‘God, yeah, sorry. Wow.’ She swung her legs over the bed and shook her head. ‘That hasn’t happened in a long time. Did I wake you up?’

‘No, I planned on having only five hours’ sleep.’ Lou grinned and yawned and sat on the bed beside her.

‘Sorry.’ Jodie tried to smile, checked the time on her mobile. Eight minutes past seven. ‘You should go back to bed.’ She felt bad about waking Lou but more than that, she needed some time to pull herself together.

‘Now that would be an idea if I thought there was any chance I’d get to sleep. Once I’m awake, I’m awake. It’s the by-product of four kids in two years.’ She shrugged. ‘Coffee sounds good, though, doesn’t it?’

‘Fabulous.’ A hit of caffeine would be great and if she had to have company while she came down from one of those nightmares, she’d choose Louise any time – even though she didn’t know about Angela or that night. Jodie had never seen the point in retelling her hideous memories when they were all trying to create lovely ones for their kids.

In the kitchen, Jodie left the coffee making to Lou and pulled up a stool at the bar. She put her elbows on the cold marble and her chin in still-trembling hands.

As Lou poured boiling water over the coffee grounds, she said, ‘Who’s Angela?’

Hearing Angie’s name made Jodie’s breath catch in her throat. ‘What?’ she feigned, not wanting to talk about her.

Louise opened the cupboards under the bench, spoke as she rummaged around inside. ‘Angela. You called out “Angela” in your sleep.’

‘God, did I say that out loud?’

‘Yes, you called out “Angela”, then “Angie”, then you said, “No” a couple of times. It was really clear. Not like the kids when they’re dreaming. I can never understand anything they say.’ Lou kept talking as she found sugar, fetched milk from the fridge, placed a hand over the coffee plunger, then looked up at Jodie. Twice, actually. A fast double take. The first a casual glance, the second one a look of concern. ‘Jodie?’