Forest Spirit (13 page)

‘Yeah, like I've told you before, they're gonna go to a nice wildlife sanctuary … where they'll be safe.'

He pointed towards their own camp. ‘C'mon, let's go. We gotta lot to do before the boat gets here. And if we haven't got the birds ready for loading by the time Evelyn arrives … well, you know what she can be like.'

Arnie didn't move. His eyes were fixed on the Kelly camp. ‘Hector? Why's the man going away? He's, ah, going down the road.'

Hector, who had started to walk off, stopped in mid-stride and hurried back. He peered over Arnie's shoulder. ‘The idiot is going to walk into town. He's carrying a can. He's going to get some fresh fuel.' He thumped a fist into his palm. ‘Damn, I didn't think he'd try that.' Hector thought for a moment. ‘It'll take him hours to walk that far though. That'll give us plenty of time to get the job done. It's only those kids he's left behind that we'll have to keep an eye on, but they shouldn't be a problem.'

Arnie raised his arm and pointed. ‘Um, look, one of them is coming towards us. The fat one. What do we do now? Do we gotta go hide? Do we?'

‘Yeah. We gotta hide.' Hector looked around. ‘Quick, get into the scrub. And keep out of sight.' They heard Quenton's footsteps as he negotiated the damp forest floor. As he drew near, Hector, reflexively but slowly, slid the long-bladed knife from its pouch once again.

Quenton brushed past Jars and Snook, who were standing around talking. Jars called out to him. ‘Quenton, where are you going?'

Quenton, without breaking step, called back. ‘What do you care? Anyway it's none of your business.'

Snook joined in. ‘Hey, Quigley, you got the sulks or what?'

Quenton drew to a halt. ‘You and her, your new
friend,
have been teasing me ever since we got here.' He emphasised the word friend. ‘I don't want to stay here with you, so I'm leaving – I might even find my camera.'

‘Look,' Snook called out again, as though realising Quenton was serious, ‘it's no good spittin' the dummy. We should stick together. And anyhow, remember what Dad said, no wandering off.'

Jars started to go after Quenton. Snook grabbed her arm. ‘Let the idiot go.' He pointed towards the trees. ‘From what you told me, he got a big enough scare the last time he went in there. I don't reckon he'll go very far.'

Jars placed her hands on her hips, watching as Quenton disappeared into the thick canopy. ‘Still,' she said, sounding worried, ‘from what I've seen so far, there's no telling what he might do.'

‘Nah, he's the nervous type. Scared of his own shadow. I reckon the thought of your ghost will stop him going too far.'

Jars sighed. ‘Okay, let's give him a little while. Then, if he's not back, we can go and fetch him.'

‘Yeah, good idea. That'll give him a chance to cool off. While we're waiting, we could fill in the time catching a few fish. What do you say?'

‘You go. I'll stay here, in case Quenton comes back.'

Jars shivered as she watched Snook walk towards the lake. The breeze blowing off the water was cool. The faint aromas of the weed beds that grew near its edge came to her, and behind, somewhere in the distance, Jars thought she heard a sound – the cry of a bird perhaps. She could not be sure.

Without any real purpose, Quenton ambled along the track, feeling the wetness of the forest floor beneath his feet. His eyes swivelled from side to side, hoping to see his lost camera.

Instead, he saw a thin, dark-skinned man with the blackest eyes he had ever seen. He also saw the knife that the man held in his hand.

He froze. His mouth flew open. A sharp cry escaped from his throat.

‘Well, well, look what we have here.' The man with the knife stepped forward and grabbed him by the arm. ‘What're you doin' wandering about out here, fat boy? And all on your lonesome as well.' The man called over his shoulder. ‘You can come out now, Arnie. There's no need to hide anymore.'

Arnie stepped into view. Quenton cried out once again. He was standing before a giant. The big man walked over to them; he tilted his head to one side, a puzzled frown on his face. ‘Um, what's going on, Hector? Why are you holding onto the little boy?'

Hector roIled his eyes. ‘Because he was snooping around. Like he was searching for something. Like he knew we were there all the time. Anyhow, he knows for sure now. The question is what do we do with him?'

‘Um, yeah, what we gonna do, Hector?'

Quenton found his voice. ‘I – I was just looking for my camera. I – I didn't know you were there. Honest, I didn't. I – I won't tell anyone I saw you. I promise …'

A thin smile crossed Hector's lips. ‘That's right, you won't be telling anyone 'cause you're coming with us.' He turned to Arnie. ‘Grab hold of him and make sure he doesn't try to run away. When we get back to camp, you find some rope and tie him up. That'll keep him quiet till we get the birds in the cages ready for loading.'

Arnie took hold of Quenton's collar. ‘Okay, little boy, you come with me now. Then you'll be able to see the birds. You'll like that.'

Arnie grinned. ‘Evelyn will be pleased. Won't she Hector?'

Hector, who was bringing up the rear, barely heard. He was deep in thought, wondering what this new turn of events would mean for them.

‘Won't she, Hector?' Arnie repeated. ‘Evelyn will be pleased.'

Hector wiped the back of his hand across his lips. If she wasn't, there'd be hell to pay. His sister could get particularly nasty when she was mad. That was the last thing he wanted. The thought of being ridiculed and buIlied was almost too much to bear. It brought back memories that he'd sooner forget, memories of his father and the horrific nights of his childhood. He felt a knot develop in his beIly as dark images of a locked cupboard with himself inside it, cowering and shivering on the floor, flashed before him. ‘I hope so, Arnie. I hope she approves.'

Jim Kelly strode along the gravel road that skirted the edge of the lake. A trickle of sweat escaped from under the brim of his felt Akubra hat. Although a thin blanket of clouds had now spread over the sky, shielding him from the sun's rays, it was still warm. He wiped the perspiration that had formed on his brow, and lengthened his step. The sooner he got to Timber Creek and back to the kids, the better it would be.

He hadn't liked leaving the kids back there on their own. But, he rationalised, like Snook had said, it was daylight. And Shadow was with them. From what he had seen, the dog had grown fiercely protective of Jars. It never left her side. Even when he had spoken to the girl, to set her straight about a few things, the dog had growled its unease. Besides, he told himself, the alternative of spending another night out here and the possibility of even further sabotage to their car was unacceptable. He could have waited for Reg Carter to come out, but Reg hadn't been specific about when he'd return. No, Jim felt his first priority was to find some fuel so they could leave. That was the safer option. Having to spend another night out here could be dangerous. After all, he didn't even know who they were up against.

He glanced at his watch. An hour had passed and he had not even left the confines of the lake. C'mon, he said to himself, keep going.

In the distance, he could see where the road disappeared into the hillside. That boosted his spirits. I'm getting there, it won't be too long now. He stopped and took a swig of water from the bottle he was carrying. He leant back, stretching; soreness had crept into his body. Too many hours on the cray boat, he muttered to himself. He arched his back again, feeling the bite of pain in his tired muscles. He shrugged away his discomfort. Keep going, he encouraged himself; another three or four hours should do it.

An hour passed, then another. He was deep into the highlands now, surrounded on each side by thick, impenetrable scrub. The stale smell of decay permeated the air, and somewhere, in its tangled mass, he could hear the rustling of unseen animals. He stopped and drank the last of the water. The soreness in his back and legs had increased. He placed the empty fuel can on the ground and rubbed the small of his back. A little pain won't hurt, he told himself. He checked the time – one o'clock. He tossed the empty water bottle into the scrub, immediately feeling a twinge of guilt. I would have told the kids off for that. He picked up the fuel can and continued to stride out. Another hour should do it, he estimated. That's all.

He saw the cloud of dust first, a yellow-brown swirl rising skywards above the green trees. Then he heard it, the familiar drone of a car, coming towards him. A feeling of relief swept through him like a wave, washing away some of the tension and anxiety that had built up in his body.

Moving towards the middle of the road, he stood and waited. He saw that it was an old car, a battered, light brown station wagon. He waved it down and ran towards it.

‘Good heavens, you're Reg Carter's friend, aren't you?' a woman's voice exclaimed. ‘What on earth are you doing out here? Weren't you going to camp over by Wombat Track?'

Jim stooped and peered through the driver's side window. ‘Yes, that's right. In fact we did set up there, but things have happened since then.' He hesitated, feeling slightly embarrassed. ‘Look, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid your name has slipped my mind.'

‘It's Evelyn Grimshaw, and if I'm not mistaken you're Jim Kelly.' She smiled briefly. ‘Now, please, satisfy my curiosity and tell me what's going on.'

He quickly outlined what had happened – the lights in the forest, the footprints in their camp, and finally, the sabotaging of the car. ‘So,' he finished, ‘I'm hoping you can give me a lift back to town. I can pick up some fuel there, then I'll get Reg to give me a lift … if he's back from Hobart, that is.'

Evelyn Grimshaw suddenly and without explanation, turned her head away, as though not listening. ‘Evelyn, a ride into town?'

She turned to face him. Any hint of a smile had gone and when she spoke, he was sure her lips quivered slightly. ‘Oh, yes … yes, of course. Please, get in.' There was a distinct edge to her voice that had not been there before.

‘I'm afraid Reg hasn't returned yet,' Evelyn said, her words clipped, as he climbed into the seat next to her. ‘His car wasn't at the office when I passed by a few minutes ago.'

For some reason his news about the happenings at the camp had upset her. But why? She hadn't been affected by them, so why on earth would it matter to her? He stole a sideways glance in her direction. She was staring ahead as though deep in thought.

‘Okay,' he said, holding up the fuel can. ‘I'll get this filled up while I wait for Reg. I don't expect he'll be too long.' He hoped he was right. What had Reg said again? That he'd probably be back today? Then again, he had also said it could be tomorrow.

Evelyn started the motor and pressed down hard on the accelerator, causing the wheels to spin on the loose surface. ‘I'd take you back out myself,' she said, ‘but I've suddenly realised there's something I have to attend to, something that can't wait. I'm sure you'll be fine though. As you say, Reg should be along in a little while.'