Blood Tears (52 page)

I sat watching my 4WD
burning, my hand up to my mouth, tears in my eyes. How was I going
to get around now? How could I take Dad to Big Town for his
treatments and doctor visits?

“
I’m
ringing the Super,” he said, pulling out his phone, jabbing in her
number. “This is a nightmare. We can’t deal with this
ourselves.”

While he hurriedly and
urgently detailed our present predicament to the Super, I sat dully
witnessing that gloating, arrogant, repulsive family once again
destroying something of mine. Red rage flowed through me, and
snapped me out of my fugue. I leaned over to unlock the door. I
decided that tonight I would deal with a few of them
permanently.

The Sarge must have
sensed my mood, because he grabbed my hand in his and kept me in my
seat. I pulled at it, shooting him a vexed look, but he just held
on tighter.

“
The
Super wants to talk to you.”

“
Let
go of me. I’ve got some heads to crack open and some people to
shoot. They’re going to pay for killing my car,” I hissed at him,
yanking at my hand and reaching for the door handle
again.

He hauled me back
towards him so violently that I virtually ended up lying across his
lap.

“
I
have to go,” he said into the phone. “She’s going to do something
stupid.”

“
Let
go of me,” I demanded, righting myself, tugging at my hand
again.

We glared at each
other.

“
Tess. We need to stick together. I can’t deal with this by
myself if you go off to be a vigilante. I need your help.
Please.”

I remembered how I’d
told him that we were a team; that we were partners. We shared a
long look, trying to read each other’s eyes and faces.

“
Okay. I’m sorry,” I said at last. “I’ll let it go for
now.”

“
That’s all I’m asking, but I know it’s a lot. The Super’s
sending uniforms.”

I took a deep breath.
“They’ll take forever to get here. What do we do until then?”

“
Try
to keep them away from the police house.”

“
How?”

“
I
don’t know.”

“
I’m
a good shot.”

“
Tess,” he said with affectionate exasperation, patting my
knee a few times. “I know you are, but unfortunately that’s not
what we’re doing.” He picked up his phone again. “I’m going to ring
Dave. Get him to organise the Brigade. It’s too late for station,
but I have the feeling it’s not going to be the last of their
drunken arson spree.”

The entertainment of my
burning Land Rover had diminished for the smashed mob, and a few
started heading for the police house.

Garth Bycraft,
shirtless and shining with sweat, came running down the road then,
only to come to a screeching stop when he saw the burning
station.

“
Woo
hoo! Look at them flames go!” he exalted. “Hey, everyone, let’s go
burn down the school too.”

It made sense to me
that he’d suggest that because he’d previously done time for
vandalising the primary school. He obviously hadn’t enjoyed his
school days much. And judging by his almost complete illiteracy,
struggling to even spell his own name, I’d bet his teachers hadn’t
enjoyed his school days much either.”

“
Let’s burn down the whole fucking town,” shouted someone from
the crowd, evoking another rousing cheer.

Almost as one, the mob
turned and ran after Garth towards the primary school.

“
Sarge,” I said urgently. “We have to get there before them.
Young Kenny sleeps there most nights.”

“
Shit.”

He didn’t waste time
waiting for me to buckle up, but sped off, honking his horn to
clear a path on the road through the drunken rioters. A hail of
rocks, picked up from the side of the road, rained down on the
patrol car, something even heavier landing on the boot with a heavy
thud.

“
Hope
this car makes it safely through the night, or we’re really
fucked,” said a tense Sarge, his hands gripping the steering
wheel.

“
We
only have to make it through until the reinforcements
arrive.”

“
If
they arrive. What if something happens in Big Town and she can’t
send any?”

“
Please don’t say that, Sarge.”

He pulled up outside
the school and we both sprang out.

“
Did
you lock the car?” I asked as we ran towards the
buildings.

“
Yep.
Where does Young Kenny stay normally?”

“
Follow me.”

It was a very small
two-teacher school with a three-room schoolhouse, covered play
area, outdoor playground, and the teachers’ residence at the
back.

“
You
go get Gretel and Mary from the house. They’re not safe,” I yelled.
“I’ll round up Young Kenny.”

“
Hurry,” he urged. “I can hear them coming. We don’t have any
time.”

I ran up the stairs to
the verandah running the length of the schoolhouse, but couldn’t
see Young Kenny. I jumped down the stairs and ran to the covered
play area, finding him huddled in a corner wrapped in his blankets,
all his worldly possessions surrounding him. He turned frightened
eyes to me.

“
Quick, Young Kenny. The Bycrafts are coming. We have to get
you out of here.”

He shook his head, his
whole body trembling.

“
Please, Young Kenny,” I begged. “It’s not the time to be
difficult.”

He shook his head
again.

“
What
about if we bring all your stuff too?” I asked in despair, hearing
the crowd coming closer.

He nodded, so I
frantically scooped up his stinky blankets, his food and the little
knick-knacks he’d collected in his long life and virtually pushed
him all the way to the patrol car. I threw all his property in the
boot with little regard to whether it was fragile or not. Then I
helped him into the back seat.

The Sarge appeared,
herding a terrified Gretel and Mary, opening the back door for
them. They baulked at sharing a seat with Young Kenny who wasn’t
know for having the highest hygiene standards.

“
Get
in!” the Sarge shouted, as the first of the Bycrafts came streaming
through the gates. That encouraged them to overcome their
fastidiousness and pile in the back with the homeless
man.

With none of us secured
by seatbelts, the Sarge performed a screeching u-turn so we were on
the opposite side of the road to the school, ready to speed off if
necessary.

Spotting us, we were
again subjected to a hail of assorted street gatherings – rocks,
pieces of bitumen, an old shoe.

“
What
are they going to do?” asked a frightened Gretel, for once not
flirtatious with the Sarge.

We watched as they
swarmed over the schoolhouse, breaking windows to enter, while
another bunch of them ran for the teachers’ residence. The sound of
glass breaking and other sounds of destruction were clear in the
still night air.

“
Oh
my God,” said Mary, the other teacher. “They’re going to destroy
everything.”

“
They’re going to do that to our house too.” Gretel started to
cry. “All my things are there.”

I reached over the seat
to grab her hand in comfort. “It’s just property, Gretel. You can
replace it. We’re more worried about your safety at the
moment.”

A glow from the inside
of the schoolhouse, followed by a burst of laughter, confirmed that
it was going to suffer the same fate as the police station.

“
Stupid bastards,” said the Sarge. “One of them is going to
burn themselves to death.”

“
Good. I hope it’s more than one,” I said, my heart darkening
with hatred.

An explosion from
inside the schoolhouse had the Bycrafts fleeing the now burning
building, laughing and cheering. A building as old as the station,
the schoolhouse’s dry, aged timber caught quickly.

“
Where’s Dave?” I asked, helplessly watching the flames spread
rapidly.

And as if he’d read my
mind, the sole fire engine serving the surrounding district drove
towards us. Probably the smallest engine money could buy, it had
been partially funded by the local Council, the rest hard earned
from lamington drives, fundraising barbecues, and flat out begging
for donations.

They pulled up next to
us, Dave sticking his head out of the window. “Where should we
start?”

“
The
police station’s probably gone by now, so concentrate on the
schoolhouse and teachers’ residence,” instructed the
Sarge.

As he said that, an
explosion from the residence, an equally old timber building, had
the two women in the back crying aloud.

The Bycrafts, pleased
with themselves, but not yet ready to stop their rampage, amassed
at the front of the school trying to decide what to target
next.

Jake’s cousin, Greg,
drove up then and smashed lightly into one of the gateposts of the
school’s small carpark. We could hear him laughing, as he clumsily
reversed, smashing into a small tree on the highway verge.

“
They’re all so drunk,” I said in despair. “How are we
supposed to control them?”

“
We
can’t. The best we can do is to stay safe, and to keep people safe.
Property will have to come a far distant third.”

Greg leaned out of the
window. “Forget the school. That’s fucking boring. It’s fucking
shopping time!”

The others cheered
loudly, and abandoned the school, running towards the shopping
area, some of them jumping on to Greg’s bonnet and boot, one even
on the roof, to catch a lift.

“
We
have
to do something, Sarge,” I implored. “We can’t just sit
here while they loot the town. This is insane.”

We slowly shadowed the
mob, the Sarge having to swerve at one point to avoid running over
one of the Bycrafts who’d fallen off Greg’s car. I thought he
shouldn’t have bothered.

“
What
will we do with these three?” the Sarge asked.

“
Take
them to Abe’s pub,” I suggested. “Apart from the glass doors, it’s
fairly secure. Perhaps that can be our rescue point.”

“
It
will have to do.”

He drove off at speed
and we spent a precious few minutes hustling our rescues out and
into the welcoming arms of Abe. A few of the other townsfolk had
already taken shelter at the pub, afraid of the rampaging
Bycrafts.

We drove back to the
shopping district. Chaos had erupted in the main shopping street
when the rest of the Bycrafts arrived. They ran wild, smashing
windows in the shops, stealing anything they could carry out.

“
I
can’t stand watching this,” I said, itching to act. “I’m getting
out.”

“
Tess, no.”

“
Sarge, look at them – they’re splitting up. We can take them
one by one. Crack a few heads, convince them to go home. Even if
it’s just a few, that’s a few less out on the street. Come on. This
is what we’re paid for. We’re not paid to sit in our car and watch
while all hell breaks loose. I’m not letting these bastards get
away with wrecking my town.”

“
All
right, but we’re retreating the second it becomes dangerous. Do we
understand each other about that?”

“
Yes,” I agreed impatiently. “Let’s go.”

We burst into the first
store, the pharmacy, startling the three teens inside busy
pilfering cosmetics, non-prescription drugs, and trying to break
open the register.

“
Out!” yelled the Sarge.

One of them, Larissa,
threw a large bottle of perfume at me clipping me on the side of
the head. I felt the slow ooze of blood start its way down my
temple.

Enraged, I rushed her,
knocking her flying, flipping her over on to her back and twisting
her arms behind her. I dragged her to her feet and frogmarched her
to the broken front door and shoved her outside.

“
Get
on home now, Larissa,” I ordered, furiously swiping the blood
across my cheek.

“
Fuck
off, piglet,” she scorned, running off as fast as she could being
pregnant, flipping me the finger as she did.

The Sarge had the other
two by the scruff and thrust them outside, giving them an equally
pointless warning to head on home.

We moved on to the next
shop and repeated the operation, both sustaining minor injuries
from various projectiles in the process. By the time we’d finished
evicting the intruders in the third shop, we noticed Bycrafts
climbing through the doorway of the pharmacy again.

We tried for ten more
unsuccessful minutes to make anyone take us seriously. We
regrouped, both of us sporting more than a few war wounds and
exhausted from the effort.

“
This
is hopeless, Tess,” the Sarge panted, blood trickling from one of
his nostrils where he’d grappled with Garth. “The second we move
them on from one shop, they’re back in another.”

I stood in the middle
of the chaos, hands on my hips, trying to catch my breath. I gazed
around me in desperation, trying to think of a plan that would
work. And then I spotted my holy grail – the answer to our
problems.

Without a word to the
Sarge, I sprinted across the road, surprising Lola by throwing my
arm around her neck and putting my gun to her forehead.

“
Tess!” the Sarge yelled at me. “What the hell are you
doing?”

“
Listen up, Bycrafts!” I shouted and waited until I had some
of their attention at least.