“Yes, Jake?”
“There’s a shotgun and bullets in my office.”
She nodded.
An hour later, she watched Jake’s plane fly off into the west. An hour after that the rain returned. Harder and more persistent than ever.
Stuck inside the house with the children was a constant exercise in creativity that kept Caitlin’s mind off Max, at least during that day, but that night, with no chance of Jake returning, she slept with one eye open and woke with a terrible headache.
The day was spent making finger puppets, using newspaper, glue and poster paint, sticking on bits of wool and string for hair.
The next day, the headache still persisting, she had the children hold a puppet show. Elizabeth helped write the simple story with William interjecting, when he wasn’t running around like a caged lion cub.
“Won’t your daddy be surprised,” Caitlin said when they’d given it a run through.
“He’s coming tomorrow, isn’t he, Caitlin?” Elizabeth asked.
Caitlin looked out the window at the incessant rain drilling straight down into the earth. She was heartily glad they were on a hill. “He will certainly try to, darling,” she said.
William began to jump up and down. “Daddy can fly in the rain,” he said fretfully. “He can fly in…” he screwed up his face in thought … snow!” They’d just watched a children’s video about a train traveling to see Santa at the North Pole.
“It doesn’t snow here, silly,” Elizabeth said scornfully.
“
Brrr
. Snow is cold. It snows sometimes in Ireland. How about we make ice cream tomorrow?” Caitlin suggested. “We’ll get Angela to help us.”
The next day the rain still pelted down. Coming from Ireland where it rained more often than not, Caitlin marveled at it. She’d never seen rain like it. The dams were brimming and pools of water lay across the ground. The air was humid and sticky. The children, who’d been very good for so long, had reached the end of their patience. William pulled Elizabeth’s hair and she threw a book at him. The air erupted with their cries and Caitlin rushed to calm them.
They made ice cream with what they had in the larder. Tinned milk, vanilla, sugar and gelatin. It tasted more like milky ice than ice cream, but the children enjoyed it and it took up a wonderful, full afternoon.
The phone rang and the three of them ran to answer it. Caitlin got there first.
“Is it Daddy?” William asked impatiently, pushing his sister away.
Jakes voice came over a crackling line. Caitlin put her fingers to her lips as he said, “The weather’s worse. I’ve never seen it so bad. I got Joss to the hospital. He’s going to be okay, but I’m stuck. The airport’s closed here in Kununurra. How’s everything … the kids?”
Her heart sank. “They’re fine. When do you think you’ll be able to fly?”
“Not looking good for tomorrow. Has Harry come back?”
“Not yet.”
“He probably needs a boat too. We’ve had a record rainfall already. I left Riley in charge down at the compound. I’m sorry, Caitlin.”
“Don’t try to rush back,” Caitlin forced herself to say. “We’re doing fine here.”
* * * *
“Harry should be back by now,” Caitlin said to Angela two days later.
Angela leaned back against the sink. “If there’s a way back he’ll find it,” she said.
“Might he be down at the compound?” Caitlin asked, tying her heavy, damp hair up off her neck.
“He’d be up to check on us.”
“Trouble with the horses, perhaps?”
Angela wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “It could be in danger of flooding down there. Years ago I remember a bad flood when they had to move the horses.”
Caitlin began to feel more restless than the children. “I’m going down to see.”
“Take care,” Angela said. “This weather brings all and sundry out of the bush. Especially snakes.”
Carrying her forked stick, she strode off down the hill. The soil had turned into red mud and the hill had become a waterfall. The silent bush dripped. There was only the sound of the birds. The only creatures apparently enjoying the conditions. She was sweating inside her raincoat. She would almost have preferred to get wet, but it afforded her some protection from the army of mosquitoes that had arrived with the rain and buzzed around her.
When she reached the compound, the place seemed deserted. “Riley?” she yelled into the silence.
Caitlin entered the stables. The five horses stabled there whinnied at the sight of her, and she went over to Columbine and stroked her nose. Not a good idea it seemed to her, to leave them here, as pools of water were spreading across the ground to join the fast flowing creek, fed with a run-off from the hill. If the rain didn’t let up, this place could be under water in a matter of hours.
She headed up to the canteen, but found it empty. Harry hadn’t returned. But where was Riley? Something was wrong. Her unease grew into fear, tightening her throat. She crossed to the cabins where the itinerant jackeroos bunked. Climbing the steps, she entered one of the four cabins. Inside were six bunks, each with its own bedside cabinet. Caitlin pulled out drawers, searching for any sign of habitation. Finding none, she left and ducked into the next. In this one, all the beds were made up and clothes hung about.
She went to the shower block and called in, but there was no sound. The rain was so heavy now it stung her face. She darted into another of the cabins for shelter. She was standing in the doorway wondering what to do next when she heard the sound of running feet splashing through the water.
She stepped out just in time to see Riley running past.
He saw her. He put his hand to his lips to silence her, and loped towards her. Caitlin’s heart began to thud hard. Riley had blood running down his face and he almost fell up the steps. He pulled her inside and collapsed on a bunk, gasping.
She reefed a tissue from her pocket. “You’re hurt. Riley, what happened?” She knew the answer as she dabbed at the blood trickling slowly from a wound on his forehead. His face looked pale as death beneath his tan and there was fear and confusion in his gaze. “There’s a mad bugger here, took a pot shot at me when I went to move the horses,” he whispered. “He’s out there now, looking for me.”
Caitlin’s heart dropped into her boots.
Max
.
“Let me see,” she said quietly. She gently wiped away the blood. With relief, she saw it wasn’t too bad. “I think it’s just a graze.”
He nodded dully as if in shock.
“Lie down for a bit, Riley,” she said.
Caitlin dropped onto her hands and knees and crawled to the window, peering out across the compound. Through the driving rain, she saw a figure disappear between two bungalows. He was carrying a rifle.
“You keep guns here, don’t you?” she asked. “Where?”
“In the office, up next to the canteen.”
“I’ll have to go and get a couple.”
Riley shook his head. “They’re padlocked in a cupboard. You’ll never find where the key’s kept.”
“Sure, I will. Just tell me.”
He shook his head again, wearily. “Too dangerous, Caitlin.”
“We can’t just hide here, Riley,” she said fiercely. “You need medical attention and the horses are going to be in trouble if this rain keeps up.”
“We won’t be of much help if we’re both dead, will we?” he asked, rather sensibly, she had to admit.
“I’ll make a bed for you on the floor behind a bunk. You’ll be safe while I get the guns.”
He climbed to his feet. “No. I’m coming too.”
Caitlin knew Max would head straight up to the house if he didn’t find them here. She wasn’t having that. “Let’s go, then,” she said urgently.
They darted back out into the rain. She followed Riley as he made for the office. Water seeped into her shoes making it difficult to hurry. Her soaked jeans flapped heavily around her legs. She wished her raincoat wasn’t such a bright yellow and considered taking it off. She found it hard to see where she was going through the pelting rain, but consoled herself with the idea that it would be difficult for Max, too.
Riley stumbled up the steps of a narrow, wooden frame building and she followed.
Caitlin peeled off her dripping mac as he threw open the cupboard doors. Inside on a pegboard hung a variety of keys. Selecting one, he went to a cabinet and unlocked the padlock. Inside were a stack of rifles like the one Harry had taught her to use. He removed two and picked up a box of shells.
“I know how to load it,” Caitlin said, taking some shells from him.
The gun still felt heavy and strange in her hands but she didn’t have time to worry about whether she would have the courage to use it.
Riley looked at her. “I feel better with this,” he said, “but what now?”
“We have to move the horses.”
“We’ll be sitting ducks.”
Caitlin shrugged. “We will be anyway.”
Riley put his hand to his head and shut his eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“I will be soon. Let’s go.”
The water was up to their ankles as they waded to the stables. The horses whinnied and shuffled about in their stalls.
“I’ll ride Thunderbolt and lead two others,” Riley said. “Can you ride Coke and lead the foal?”
“Yes, I think so,” she said, trying to disguise the tremble in her voice.
They saddled the nervous horses, silently keeping an eye out for anyone out in the compound, but the incessant rain and the rising water seemed to be the only movement.
By the time they’d mounted, the water was swirling around the horse’s legs. Columbine flicked her tail and whinnied. “Easy girl,” Caitlin said soothingly as she turned to check on the foal she was leading. Luckily, she was keen to keep up with the other horse.
Caitlin found it very difficult staying in the saddle as she led another horse, although Riley, despite his wound, did it with ease. She and the fidgety horses followed him up the steep rise. It became even more difficult on the slope. “I’m going to have to dismount and lead them, Riley,” she called out with dismay, feeling as if she was going to slide backwards off the wet saddle any minute.
“Hang on with your knees,” Riley called back. “You’re doing fine.”
She dug her knees into Columbine’s side and grimly followed him up the bush track.
“There’s an old barn up near the top paddock where they keep the children’s ponies. We can stable the horses there,” Riley yelled.
“
If
I make it,” she muttered. Her eyes hurt from peering through the rain and her thighs were beginning to cramp painfully. The anxious foal danced about and tugged on the lead. Caitlin felt the slick, leather rein slide through her fingers and tightened her grip.
They rode on. She kept searching, but there was no sign of Max. The hill and the dripping bush seemed endless, and there was a veritable waterfall at their feet. Finally, the land leveled out and she allowed herself a sigh of relief as they came to a fork in the track. She followed Riley and the three horses through deep mud, the bushes leaping back to scratch her face as the track narrowed into a tunnel of weeping vegetation. She had to flatten herself against Columbine’s neck as she took her beneath a low branch of a gum tree and ducked her face beneath her arm as more bristling shrubs lashed against her face.
Just as she was ready to scream in frustration, the track widened again and she saw the old barn in the centre of a clearing.
Riley got up a trot and, as if sensing their trip was coming to an end, Columbine and the bay joined in. They rode through the door into the interior stacked high with hay bales. The two ponies shuffled about and neighed in welcome.
“Thank God.” Caitlin almost fell off Columbine, her legs quivering like jelly and buckling beneath her.
Riley began to see to the horses and she joined in. They worked together silently until they’d made them secure. Only then, did Caitlin turn her attention to Riley. He looked bad. The wound had begun to bleed again.
“I feel a bit dizzy,” he said sheepishly. He collapsed onto a hay bale, his head in his hands. “I think I’d rather face that crazy guy than Jake, if I’d let his prize breeding stock drown.”
“I have to get you back to the house,” Caitlin said, kneeling beside him.
He shook his head. “I’ve had it. I’d be a liability. Let me rest here for a bit. You go and check on the kids. Don’t forget that gun.”
Caitlin headed back into the rain to the main track that led to the house. Where was Max? she wondered, as she stumbled over dead logs hidden in the grass. The soaring roof of Tall Trees appeared through the trees and she emerged into the upper paddock, holding her gun at the ready. She was terrified that she would find him in the house. The thought almost paralyzed her with fear.
The rain eased off a bit as she waded through the long grass, her eyes on the house. Smoke wafted from the kitchen chimney and it looked pretty peaceful through the misty rain.
She ran up onto the verandah. She couldn’t hear the children.
She crept to the door of her bedroom and opened it. It squeaked. Her heart pounding loud in her ears, she crept into the hall.
“There you are,” said Angela. “The kids are driving me crazy.”
“Angela. Where are the kids?”
“Playing with some wool in the kitchen.”
“We have to get away from the house. Help me get the children ready.”
“Why?”
“That madman is roaming around out there. He’s shot Riley.”
“I’m not going,” she said, sticking out her chin. “I have a gun and I know how to shoot it.”
Caitlin gathered up the children’s raincoats. “I’m taking the kids to the barn where their ponies are. They’ll be safe there.”
“For how long?”
The question brought Caitlin up short. They could hardly stay there for days without food.
“Until I find Max,” she said.
“And take him prisoner?” Angela said. Her commonsense was becoming annoying.
“We can’t watch this house. He could get in anywhere.”
Angela went to the window. “What if he’s out there now, watching for us?”
“Very well,” Caitlin said, picking up the gun. “I’ll go look for him. You keep a watch here.”
“Be careful,” Angela said grimly.
She felt better becoming the hunter instead of the hunted. She circumnavigated the house, checking every window. There was no sign of him. She couldn’t leave Riley alone out there. She was fired up by adrenaline and felt she could go all night if need be.