The Repossession (41 page)

Studebaker Golden Hawk. Made in Canada, it boasted.

The Jag poster from ’67 for the E Type Roadster was amazing too. It was just like a museum.

‘Got meatloaf and mash – enough for a few mouthfuls each,’ Ferry said.

‘Meatloaf?’ Renée asked. She seemed OK now, a little bit spooked, but with them, at least.

Moucher sat at Genie’s feet and did his very

best to looked starved.

‘So happens I have dog food – always someone who forgets to buy stuff for the dog. Keep dog biscuits by the kitty litter next to the postcard stand if you want to get it.’

‘Postcards? You have postcards?’ Genie asked. ‘Of Spurlake? You’re kidding, right?’

Ferry laughed at her amazement. ‘Well, put it this way, I sell more dog biscuits than postcards. Go get. I’ll warm up the meatloaf.’

They sat down to eat fifteen minutes later. Moucher had finished his in ten seconds flat. Renée was reading a magazine that was at least thirty years old.

‘I love this. It’s like a time machine. You never throw anything out, huh?’

‘Now you’re wrong there, girl. Got ten sacks of garbage floating out there to prove it.’

‘Well I love it. Makes me feel like I’m in the Fonz’s house or something.’

‘You kids know about the Fonz?’ Ferry seemed surprised.

‘Hello. Daytime TV.
Happy Days
is like on forever.’

Ferry smiled. He was enjoying having company, even if the clock was ticking. He looked at the wall map.

‘You’re going to have some problems. The river isn’t exactly friendly for some of the ways. At least you’re

passed Hell’s Gate. You wouldn’t like that in this weather.

People pay good money for white rafting around here. I got some Army surplus rafts. At least one should be serviceable.’

‘Raft?’ Rian asked. He had an image of logs lashed together on open seas.

‘The army use them when a normal boat won’t get through. Can float in just inches of water and they’re light and fast.’

‘And you don’t think they’ll be watching the river?’

Renée asked him.

Ferry shrugged. ‘It’s night. You’ll get quite a ways down before dawn. My advice is sleep during the day and travel at night.’

Rian nodded. Made sense.

‘How long will it take? I mean, do we just go with the current?’ Genie asked. She had strong memories of the current and clinging on for dear life with the pig.

‘Got paddles. You can get all the way downstream in about three days I reckon. Used to run the rivers myself when I was younger. Faster if you risk daylight as well. Further you go the deeper it gets and the current’s swift, especially after all this rain. After Hope it spreads out and gets real lazy though and you got to keep to the deep channel. Understood? You could do it quickly if

you knew the currents and didn’t spill. I only got one life jacket. If you don’t mind me suggesting it, put it on the dog. It’s small.’

‘Thanks,’ Genie told him, then, putting up her hand like she was in school. ‘But can I ask why? You know about the reward. Ten grand is a lot to . . .’

Ferry swallowed the last of his meatloaf and looked at her a moment, considering his reply.

‘I see a lot of kids. From Cedarville, like Renée here, and Rian. You all find this place at some point in your lives and then forget it. It’s like some kind of ritual.

It’s a long way out of town, risky to go any further.

Place you turn back. Seen a lot of kids stop by, head down the reservation road and you know they ain’t ever coming back.’

‘The road to the Fortress.’

‘Exactly.’

‘We came back,’ Renée pointed out.

‘You’re the first. Bet you’re the last,’ he said. ‘They want you guys real bad and that means you’ve got something they need. What that might be, I don’t know, but if I can do anything to stop them from having it . . . I will.’ He smiled, revealing a silver front tooth.

Genie was finally satisfied he was on their side.

*

The moon was high now; it shone brightly as the rain began to tail off at last. Ferry took them down to the river at the end of his property and pulled out two heavy-duty rubber rafts from a semi-derelict boathouse. One had the base torn; the other looked ragged, but was in good shape otherwise and inflated. He tipped the rainwater out of it.

‘It’s tough.’ He hit it hard and it didn’t even dent. ‘Four metres long. Can take you guys easy. It’s got eight air chambers and there’s thigh straps as well as hand straps.

You’ll need ’em. There’s a hard shell, so it can withstand rocks and anything else that’s out there. But steer clear of logs, got that? They can rip these things to pieces. I use to rent them out for river runners and fishermen until the recession bit.

‘Won’t save you from anyone firing at you, but you keep your head down and hold on to these grab handles right here. The three, hell, I mean four of you,’ he noted Moucher at his feet, ‘can survive the rapids easy from here.

Category two at the most. Hell’s Gate would be six tonight and I wouldn’t fancy your chances. They’re supposed to be self-bailing, but don’t count on it. Make sure the dog is secure, he might panic, and here,’ he handed over two pairs of old socks and a bailer, ‘put socks on the dog.

His claws could go through the base. Don’t let him take them off.’

Genie laughed. Moucher in socks, it was funny. Mouch wasn’t keen but as long as it was Genie doing it he was almost OK with it. They didn’t smell too good but hey . . . what could they do?

‘If you can’t see your way, use the paddles to check for deeper water. There’s a number of places where you’ll be exposed, but beyond the bend here it gets deeper. The tricky bit is when this stretch of water joins the Fraser, OK? Can get real busy and there’s undercurrents. You think you can do this?’

Rian nodded. ‘We don’t have a choice. Thanks, Ferry.

Will you call Marshall in a couple of days and tell him where his truck is?’

Ferry nodded. ‘I’ll give it a service. That way I make a buck or two out of it. It looks pretty beat. At least you put the licence plate back on.’

‘Survived a fire. Drives good though.’

‘Noted. ’Bout thirty clicks downstream, there’s Bear Island in the middle of the river. Betty Juniper runs a lodge there.’ He took out a letter from his back pocket, looked greasy and worn, even in moonlight. He put it in a thin plastic sandwich bag and sealed it. ‘Meant to post her this but keep forgetting. She’ll feed you. Tell her to bill me.’

‘We’ll pay our way,’ Rian told him.

‘Just saying, she’s a friend. All right, son? Friends are hard to find in this world.’

‘Bear Island?’ Renée queried. ‘Like bears? They live there?’

‘I guess they used to. Good place to catch salmon in spring.’

‘Around here, everywhere is a good place to catch salmon in spring,’ Rian said. He got into the raft and took Moucher from Genie’s arms.

‘We’ll give her the letter,’ Genie told Ferry, taking it from him and slipping it in her back pocket. ‘Let’s go.

Sooner we’re gone, safer we’ll be.’

‘Don’t take risks,’ he said as they climbed in and cast off.

‘
Don’t take risks
, he says,’ Renée muttered as she climbed in, ‘and he sends us to an island full of bears!’

Moucher barked, unnerved by the experience, but they were on the water and moving – dim moonlight showing the way.

They looked back but Ferry had already disappeared.

They were on their own now.

Genie said a little prayer. A whole lot of river lay ahead of them. How long before the Fortress realized they had evaded the roadblocks and came after them? She prayed for luck and invisibility.

‘I sure hope we’re doing the right thing,’ Renée said, squinting ahead into the darkness.

Genie gave Mouch a hug to reassure him it was going to be fine, but he shook; he’d just found out he hated being on water.

‘We’re leaving Spurlake, Mouch. No one will ever be mean to us again.’

‘I don’t want to worry you,’ Rian said quietly, ‘but this river is running a lot faster than he said it would.’

They could all feel the raft picking up speed, the river was beginning to toss them up and down, as they got to mid-stream.

‘What’s that noise ahead?’ Renée was asking. ‘Sounds like a waterfall?’

‘There’s no waterfalls on this river,’ Rian declared, desperately trying to remember if that was true or not.

They were going faster all the time now and it began to feel suddenly very dangerous.

‘I don’t think this is a good idea, guys,’ Genie said, clinging on to Mouch.

Rian looked back at her and sensed she was right.

‘Hang on, hang on real tight.’

‘Not good. Not good at all,’ Genie said, gripping the handle.

Moucher began to howl. He sensed they were doomed.

*

Cary walked out of Pizza World on Pioneer Street holding the warm box steady, his stomach growling, hungrily anticipating the hot pepperoni with double cheese. His mom had made a snap decision to eat pizza as they were driving back from seeing the lawyer.

He suddenly realized he wasn’t alone. The guy wore a dark suit, no coat, wet black shoes. Looked like he’d been waiting for him. Cary glanced behind him and realized another guy was standing there too, to stop him from running. He must have been in Pizza World all that time and he’d not noticed. Cary’s mother was waiting for him in the car just four metres away.

‘What?’ Cary asked, but he instinctively knew why they were here.

‘We spent all day looking for you, Cary. Seems you might be hiding from us.’

‘Mom?’ Cary yelled, but a truck went by and drowned out his words.

Another guy appeared from nowhere and grabbed the pizza from him and pulled him towards a waiting SUV.

‘Mom!’ Cary yelled again, realizing he had only seconds to raise the alarm.

Another suit was running towards Cary’s mother’s car.

His mother was just beginning to realize something was

happening and was opening her door.

Cary felt a prick on his neck. They had injected him with something.

‘Mom,’ he yelled again, but knew he was losing consciousness.

‘She can’t help you, Cary, we own you now,’

someone was saying as they bundled him into the back of their vehicle.

‘Harrison secure,’ another voice said into a cell.

Last thing Cary saw was a sign saying:
We deliver twenty-four/seven
. The Fortress had possession of him again. And then he felt nothing, absolutely nothing at all.

For Roxy, who was my inspiration and guiding hand.

With thanks to Freya, Victor and George Olden who gave excellent advice and to Lionel and Catherine, who provided the ideal mountain view to write in – not to mention the guard dog Moucher. Appreciation must go to the City of Vancouver, BC, for being so welcoming, it constantly inspires my writing.

And of course much credit goes to Beverley, who believed in the project from the very beginning and Carine ‘Kit’ Thomas for keeping my feet firmly on the ground.

The river picked up speed suddenly. They were once again in deeper water, steeper slopes on either side and the water was incredibly choppy.

‘We getting faster?’ Renée whispered; her voice betraying her anxiety.

‘Hold on,’ Rian called. ‘Ship your paddle, Genie.

Damn, I can’t see anything, but we’re . . .’ He nearly lost his paddle and the raft spun all the way around as it collided with some rocks mid-stream.

Not seeing where they were going and what dangers lay ahead was unnerving.

‘Hold on to Mouch,’ Genie called out, scared now as water cascaded over the prow and drenched them.

‘There aren’t any rapids are there?’ Renée asked, panic in her voice.

‘No. Hell, I don’t know,’ Rian answered, desperately trying to steady them. ‘We’ve diverted from the main channel I think. Hang on tight.’

A powerful flashlight suddenly flooded the raft. It blinded all three of them. The light moved away wildly as the other raft turned to cope with the fast moving river.

‘It’s them,’ someone shouted. ‘I know it is. It’s them.’

Genie’s heart nearly stopped.

‘Jesus,’ Rian exclaimed. ‘Who the hell?’

‘Will they shoot?’ Renée asked.

‘They don’t want us dead.’ Genie muttered tersely.

‘They’ll want the reward money.’

Rian took strength from that. The raft was pitching up and down now as it entered the rapids, a surge of water pushing them forward, squeezing them up against fast moving debris. All he could do to just hold on, likewise for Genie, now holding Mouch tightly, and Renée was lying flat and twisting her hands through the grab handles – just in case.

The powerful searchlight was still seeking them. Rian ducked down beside Genie.

‘Start praying.’

‘I
am
praying.’

‘Good, ’cause I’m crapping myself here,’ Renée said.

‘Who the hell are they?’

‘Bounty hunters. I saw a pair go by earlier.’

Genie and Renée digested this set of facts. Hunters.

Hunters meant guns. Big guns. Hunters liked shooting at things.

The river was moving dangerously fast. Genie clung on to Moucher as Renée tried to grab Rian. Suddenly they

plunged down into a foaming rush of water, a jagged rock snagged the inflatable and Rian was sent flying.

A shot rang out real close, pinging off a rock. Genie was pitched underwater, churning in the freezing sluice, gasping for breath. Mouch sprang free. Somewhere ahead Renée was screaming as she stayed with the inflatable, rapidly disappearing downriver. And Rian? Where was Rian? Why didn’t he come up for air?

‘Rian? Rian?’ Genie wailed as she surfaced, but there was no sign of him. She saw the Hunter’s flashlight approaching and immediately ducked underwater again wondering how long she could hold her breath.

All the while she was praying Rian was OK. Please let Ri be OK . . .

‘They are right here,’ a Hunter was saying, as he reloaded the shotgun. ‘I can almost smell the money.’

Rian was reeling, tasting blood. He’d bashed his head hard and swallowed a ton of water. He surfaced, spinning around to get his bearings. He was still moving down river. The flashlight was sweeping the water looking for them and Rian, head spinning with pain, had to dive under again to avoid them finding him.