Beyond Fear (36 page)

They were in line with the back corner of Hannah and Corrine’s bedroom with a view down one side of the barn to the kitchen and along the other to where the French doors opened out onto the verandah.

Louise and Hannah and Corrine were up there. Locked in with killers.

Jodie thought of the other holes under the barn and felt hot and cold at the same time. Had they made Tina dig her own grave? But Jodie hadn’t been digging a grave. She’d been digging Tina up. She looked at Matt in the darkness. He’d squatted on the ground, was looking up the slope towards the barn, his mouth a hard line, his jaw clenched. Jodie knelt down beside him. ‘What did you dig up?’

He didn’t take his eyes off the barn, barely moved his lips. ‘A box.’

A box?

A coffin kind of box?

Jodie closed her eyes, swallowed hard, forced herself to breathe.

A roar of gunshot cracked open the night.

The noise came back to her a dozen times as it echoed around the valley. In her head, she saw Louise and Hannah and Corrine huddled in the wardrobe, terror on their faces. And she was on her feet, the sound of her gasp like a rush of wind in her ears.

Her eyes were on the bedroom. Her legs were already moving as a second shot shook the darkness. Oh, God, no. The adrenaline rush that hit felt like a starter’s gun. She took off, was three paces into a sprint and picking up speed when Matt reached her. One arm went around her waist, pulled her off course, spun her away.

As they fell, crashing through foliage, a third shot rang out.

‘No. No. No,’ she cried.

She wanted to scream it but Matt had crushed the air from her. She wanted to yell and punch and kick, tried to as they hit the ground but he held her tight, arms locked to her sides, his body like a wall at her back. He was saying something, over and over, but all she could hear was the fourth blast, filling her up, making her head spin and her body shudder and her eyes spill over with tears.

They were dead. She’d left them and they were all dead. Louise and Hannah and Corrine were dead. And Angie. Four friends. Four shots. One for each of them.

Matt wasn’t talking any longer. Just breathing. Loud, laboured breathing. His chest heaved against her spine. His arm around her stomach was like a seatbelt on crash lock. Jodie squeezed her eyes shut, tried to block out the bloody images that were forcing their way into her head.

‘I’m sorry. Jodie, I’m so sorry,’ Matt breathed into her ear.

A tear ran sideways across her cheek, leaving a cold trail on her face.

‘Hey, Wiseman!’

Jodie went limp with fear. It was Kane, shouting. Footsteps thumped on the timber verandah, walking the length of the barn.

‘Try being a hero now, Wiseman. See if you can make it past the lights. I wanna do some pig huntin’.’ He hooted like a madman.

There was a pause in Matt’s breathing. When it started up again, it was still laboured but slower, more controlled.

‘Hey, pig,’ Kane bellowed.

Matt pulled his arm away, put a finger to his lips. On the verandah, the thud of Kane’s footfalls became a double beat. Travis was out there, too.

‘Make a run for the bitch’s car. See how far you can get on shot-out tyres, pig.’ Kane’s feral laugh hung in the darkness.

Jodie’s head snapped up. Shot-out tyres. Four tyres. Four shots. Not Louise and Hannah and Corrine. Kane hadn’t shot them. He’d shot the tyres. If he’d shot them, he’d be bragging about it.

They weren’t dead.

She looked at Matt, wanting some kind of confirmation that she hadn’t got it wrong. He’d closed his eyes and a muscle on his jaw moved in and out as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. Then he met her eyes in the darkness and she knew she was right. A wave of relief crashed over her. She sucked in a breath that seemed to go on and on forever, as though her lungs couldn’t get enough oxygen. As though she was breathing for her friends as well, keeping them alive in the wardrobe. Matt hooked an arm around her neck and pulled her to him, held her against his shoulder, his face in her hair. She clung to his shirt.

They are alive, Jodie.
Locked up in a wardrobe, bleeding and terrified but not dead.

The double footsteps moved away, fading to a single beat before they disappeared, as though one brother was walking along the back of the barn while the other watched the front.

Matt took her by the shoulders. ‘You have to go for help,’ he said quietly.

We’ve got to run, Angie.
Jodie’s own voice from eighteen years ago was as clear and as loud as if she’d just spoken.

‘Jodie? Did you hear me? You’ve got to get some help.’

‘No.’ She pushed away from him. Gunfire echoed in her head and ricocheted around in her skull. She forced herself to breathe, to look at him.

He kept his voice low. ‘There’s a stock trail through the bush. There’s no chance they’ll see you from the barn.’

No, no. She’d have to leave them. She’d promised she would never do that again. Dread pulsed through her veins. Her heart was racing. She could hear it in her ears. Pounding like a death beat.

‘It’ll take you down to the house on the road.’

The road’s just through the trees. I can run that in under a minute. Flag someone down. Get help.

Oh, God. She squeezed her eyes shut. She was puffing, hard, like she was already running. Through the dark. Through the trees. Running as fast as she could. Not fast enough. Never fast enough. ‘No, no. I can’t.’

‘You can. Just get down to the house and call the cops. Tell them gunmen have taken hostages. Then wait there for them, make sure they find the driveway.’ He took her by the chin, tilted her face to his. ‘You can do this, Jodie. I know you can.’

She shook her head. It was roaring. She was seeing it all. Louise bleeding, Corrine crying, Hannah frozen in shock, Angie’s eyes in the dark, a teenage girl in a red coat, holes in the dirt. The images were careering around, smashing into each other. ‘
No.
I’m not leaving them.’ She pushed his hand away. ‘
You
go.
You
do it.’

‘Jodie.’

‘I have to stay with Angie.’

32

Jodie put her hand to her head. Don’t lose it now. ‘No, no, not Angie. It’s too late for Angie. I . . . I . . .’

‘Oh, Jesus.’ Matt’s face dawned with some sort of realisation. He sat back, pushed both hands through his hair. ‘Okay, Jodie. It’s okay.’ He stopped, took a breath. ‘Look, I know you’ve been through something terrible. I’ve seen the scars. I don’t know what happened but I know it was bad and I know you’re scared. And I wish to God this wasn’t happening right now. But it is. So listen to me.’ He reached out, put his hand on her arm, then let it slide down to her hand and twisted his fingers with hers.

They were warm and reassuring. He thought that’s what she needed. He thought she was scared, that she needed reassurance she’d be safe out there in the bush. He was wrong. He’d seen scars but only the ones on her skin. He thought she was frightened of having a knife plunged into her belly again. She wasn’t. That thought didn’t even rate.

‘Are you listening?’ he said.

Jodie looked away. He was going to try to convince her. She didn’t want to be convinced.

‘Your friends need help. They need the cops to come and get them out. I’m not the person they need. I’m not. I can’t do it. And I won’t make it down to the road on this knee. You have to go. There’s no other way.’

Sweat was cold on her face. Her lungs were so tight she could hardly breathe. She looked up towards the barn. Tears welled in her eyes.

Run, Jodie. Before they come back.

Oh God, God, God. She’d promised Angie. She’d vowed she would never, ever leave a friend behind again. Now Matt was telling her she had to. There was no other way. Her head was spinning, roaring. Part of her wanted to leap up and charge through the bush, run like a banshee down to the house on the road, call the police, cars and cars of them with sirens and lights that would scream up here and save her friends. Just like Matt said.

But she heard herself, too.
The road’s just through the trees. I can run that in under a minute. Flag someone down. Get help.
She shook her head, an aggressive back and forth, trying to shake out the memory that pierced her like a knife. The knife that had cut Angie’s throat when Jodie had run eighteen years ago.

‘You can do this, Jodie. You’re fast. I’ve seen you. You’ll be there in ten minutes. Twelve max. Don’t think about it. Just run.’ He took hold of both of her hands, made her look at him. ‘Just run, Jodie.’

She sat on her haunches, heard his words again in her head, felt as though a hypnotist had snapped his fingers. One second her head was spinning and roaring. The next there was silence.

It wasn’t shock and she wasn’t deaf. It was just cool, calm silence. Matt had said the words she’d feared the most –
Run, Jodie
– and everything dropped into focus. He’d done her a huge favour. She felt better than she had since they’d been forced off the road on Friday night. As though she’d reached beyond her fear and found herself again. She took a long breath of cold night air and felt steely resolve settle in her bones.

‘I’m not leaving my friends. I’m staying here and we’re going to find another way to get them out.’

Matt was angry. He was totally in awe of her and mad as hell at her. ‘Jesus Christ, Jodie. Don’t do this. You have to go. You can’t be here.’

He’d watched her struggle through what could only be intensely painful memories. He’d thought that whatever she’d gone through to get those scars would make her want to get out of the firing line – and he’d have one hostage home free. But now she was putting her hand up and asking to stay. He felt the edge of panic stir in his chest. Her guts of steel were going to be a lead weight around his neck.

They both stiffened as footsteps sounded on the deck again. First one set, then the second. Both brothers.

‘Wiseman! You’re a chicken shit,’ Kane yelled. ‘Get out here so I can put you out of your misery.’

His high-pitched laugh was overlaid with Travis’s lower, abrupt words. ‘Fuck you, Wiseman.’

Matt turned to Jodie. Kane and Travis were going to run out of things to yell soon and he wanted Jodie gone by the time they changed tack.

‘Get the hell out of here,’ he hissed at her. ‘Let me get at least one of you out alive.’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘We’re
all
getting out.’

‘No, we’re not.’ He made it sound like a statement of fact. Meant it to scare the crap out of her.

She shoved him hard in the chest. ‘You bastard! You’ve given up on them.’

Anger blazed from her eyes. She wasn’t going to go. He could see it. She was dug in, defiant, stubborn as hell. And now it was back to four lives in his hands.

‘Fuck, fuck.’ He spat the words into the darkness. He raked his hands across his head, kicked viciously at the dirt. He needed to get up and stalk around, throw something, but he couldn’t, not with Kane and Travis on the verandah waiting for a head to shoot at. Not with
four
lives he could fuck up.

Jodie said nothing. What
could
she say? The guy she thought was going to save her friends was falling apart. She thought he was some kind of goddamn hero. And now she’d put herself in his hands. She didn’t know it but he was the guy voted most likely to get her killed.

‘Hey, tough bitch. Do you a deal.’ It was Travis this time. ‘Get up here and I’ll let your friend go. The one that’s bleeding. She looks real bad, you know. Don’t think she’ll last much longer. You better get out here.’

Jodie rose to a squat, like a sprinter on her blocks. Matt glanced at her and in that half a second everything got a whole lot worse. Because in his head, he saw her cooking that steak. He saw himself eating the damn thing. He saw her naked, wrapped around him, watching him with those amazing eyes. And it made everything worse. Because he wanted to be in that picture. Because he had no weapon. Because he could barely walk. Because he’d spent the last six months avoiding anything remotely cop-like. All he had now to keep Jodie and her friends alive was his instincts.

His fucking, fucked-up instincts.

‘Listen to me,’ Matt whispered. She had to know. ‘I haven’t given up on your friends. But I’m not who you think I am. People died because of me. I don’t want your blood on my hands, too. I need to know you’re safe. You’ve already done more than most. You saved my life. I won’t forget that. Now get the hell out of here. Please.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Matt. Shut up.’ She looked at him with hard eyes. ‘It’d take the police half an hour to get here on a good night. My friends will be dead by then. And I’m not going to wait down on the road just to hear that piece of news. Not
again
, you got that?’

Again? What the hell had happened to her? Whatever it was, it’d turned her into a raging tiger. And right now, she was making him ashamed of his own fear.