Authors: Ross Richdale
"So the druggies took a zigzag route in?" Ryan asked.
"Yeah. It's pretty remote territory here but you still get trampers or hunters through. They'd tend to stick to the valley. I guess the druggies don't want to leave any trace of where they've been."
"But Flossie's not fooled?"
Clive grinned and patted his dog again. "No. Taken her hunting with me and will also use her in duck shooting season next month. Last year she even swam out in a lake to recover a duck I shot down." He grimaced. "Should have brought the shotgun with us today."
Flossie led them up a small ridge and down the opposite side. They were in another broad valley that ran parallel to the one they'd left. The trees thinned and finally stopped. Ahead was a flat oval field at least a hundred metres long and half as wide, filled with gigantic spiky plants with white almost fluffy looking flowers, or perhaps they were seed pods at the top,
"Marijuana!" Ryan said.
"Quite a crop!" Clive whispered. "We've never been to this place before. Without Flossie we could have walked right past on the other side of that tiny ridge and never guessed it was here."
They walked closer. The plants were well looked after and enclosed within square shaped netting nailed to two metre high posts that were set ten metres apart. Along one side was a narrow well-worn track that led to a wooden gate that provided access to the plantation itself.
"Very sophisticated," Clive said. "Just about ready for harvesting, I'd say."
Ryan nodded. "So we report it this time, Clive," he said. "This proves what we originally thought. This is not some local guys growing a bit for Saturday parties." He gazed at the plants though the netting. They were swaying almost as tall as himself in a gentle breeze. The whole scene sent a sinister feeling through his body. Having this massive crop so close to Top Plateau Station both annoyed and at the same time frightened him. "Come on, let's go!" he said.
Clive frowned but seemed reluctant to leave. "Perhaps…" he muttered. "No, you're right. We need to report this as soon as we can." He turned to Flossie. "Find us the best way home, Girl!"
The dog gave a yelp as if she was glad to leave and bounded directly up the slope to the right. Ryan followed and found the steep section quite a climb. Within a few moments he was ten metres ahead of Clive who had stopped to get his breath.
"Flossie, Wait," Ryan called.
The dog stopped and sat down. Ryan turned and was about to walk back to offer a hand to Clive when he heard a twanging sound. This was followed by a swish!
Something hit him in the
right leg!
He staggered as his
leg collapsed and pain shot up his body. The foliage around him blurred as he dropped, crashed into a tree trunk and screamed in sheer agony. Something was terribly wrong with his leg but what was it!
He blinked back tears as he pushed away ferns that brushed against his body and attempted to move his leg. Agonising pain shot up it and he could feel rather than see blood seeping through the bottom of his shorts. His view became blurry and he found it hard to stay conscious.
"Ryan!"
He heard his friend's call as if it was a hundred kilometres away and saw a concerned a face staring at him through a spinning mist.
"Bastards!" Clive growled. "Don't move, Ryan. Just keep still!"
"What is it?" Ryan gasped as Clive squatted beside him and wrapped his jacket around his throbbing leg. "Have I been shot?"
"No, The bastards must have rigged up a crossbow. You have a steel arrow embedded in your upper leg. Reckon it's gone right through but I don't want to shift you."
Ryan found his senses returning a little. The spinning had stopped but his whole leg was now numb. He raised his head and glanced down. He immediately wished he hadn't for he felt ill at the sight. Just above his knee, a thirty-centimetre shaft stuck out of his upper leg. Worse though, was the blood that was pulsing out, pour
ing down his leg and onto the ground.
Clive tied a strip of cloth that was probably part of his shirt around his upper leg, made a knot that included a stick and tightened it. Pain shot through Ryan's body and he again almost collapsed in the pain.
"Sorry Ryan," Clive gasped. "Even though I'm not even going to try to pull the arrow out, I need to apply a tourniquet. You're loosing too much blood."
"Do what you can," Ryan managed to gasp the words. His last recollection was seeing Flossie beside him and a sloppy tongue licking his face. He reached out. "It's okay Girl," he almost sobbed. "I'm fine!"
The trouble was that he wasn't!
*
Karla glanced at her watch. It was almost five and she had just finished filling in a pile of documents on the computer. She loved teaching but found the administration work involved in being a principal quite irksome. Some of the Ministry returns seemed to be just pure bureaucracy and she doubted if they were even read. However, they had to be done by the end of February and the last was finally completed. Jennifer, the cleaner had finished and gone as had Sharon who had taken the class for the afternoon as part of her own release time.
She gathered her bits and pieces and was about to lock the front door when her mobile chirped. She frowned when Clive's name appeared.
"Hello Clive, Karla speaking. This is an unusual time to hear from you."
"Don't be alarmed but there's been a bit of an accident"
His tone sent a shiver up her back. "What is it Clive?" She whispered and listened with her heart racing as he told her about Ryan. When he mentioned a tourniquet she found herself shaking. "Where is he now?" she almost shouted.
"Still there with Flossie guarding him. I'm at the back of the farm. Had to climb up here to get in cellphone range. I've called the emergency number and a helicopter is coming. Have to leave you and get back to him so will lose the signal again."
"I'm coming up!" Karla cried.
"There's nothing more you can do."
"I'm coming!" She shouted. "Tell me where!"
"Okay, then bring your medical kit. We need more bandages, disinfectant and painkillers. When I left him
a quarter an hour ago he was barely unconscious so I need to get back. You know that top paddock that you can reach on the quad bike?"
"Yes!"
"You'll see the tractor there. When you arrive just wait. Don't try to go into the bush. You'll get lost. If I can persuade Flossie to meet you she will lead you back. I repeat, though. Don't try to find us by yourself. Okay?"
"Yes," Karla gasped.
As usual, she had no transport at school so she grabbed the school's first-aid box, tore home though the paddocks, arrived gasping for breath and heaved in satisfaction when the quad bike roared to life. She grabbed her helmet that was dangling from the bike's handlebars and roared out the back drive. As she accelerated up though the paddocks she called Clive's number to tell his wife the news but found the mobile was already out of range.
"Damn," she muttered and concentrated on her driving.
After having to open and shut three gates she arrived way above the houses, school and hall below. She ignored the view and braked beside the tractor. When she turned off the quad bike's motor, silence seemed to grab her. Usually, the silent backcountry relaxed her but today, all by herself she shuddered. She stopped and listened. Apart from the distant sound of wind in the bush there was no other sound but was there?
She heard a faint whimper and Flossie came out from under the tractor, saw her and barked.
"Good Girl," Karla gasped and rubbed the dog's ears. "You did come!"
Flossie wagged her tail and woofed, obviously pleased to see somebody she knew.
"Take me to Ryan and Clive, Flossie," Karla said.
The dog glanced at her, gave her tail a couple of wags and set off down the bush-covered slope on the far side of the ridge.
Karla followed. She cursed her work clothes, kicked off her completely unsuitable shoes and continued on in stockings, little caring about ruining them. They reached the valley floor but Flossie ran right across it, waited only for her to catch up before running up the other side. Karla was fit but was still gasping for breath when they reached the top of a smaller ridge. They came out to a tussock-strewn gap with the summit ahead. She climbed the slope using her hands to grip tussock and scrambled on. Finally she was at the top. Down the other side was another broad valley about the size of three football fields placed end to end. It was flat and green crops with white flowers moved in waves almost like weaves in an ocean. Neither Clive or Ryan were in sight.
She stood there puffing and covered in perspiration, her stockings were ruined and her feet bruised and punctured with prickles. She still had her shoes in her hand so took off her stockings, removed as many thistles from her feet as possible and put her shoes back on.
"Come on, Flossie," she said but frowned when the dog just whimpered and squatted down.
Karla kneeled down beside the dog and patted her. "What is it, Flossie?"
She heard it! The whoop, whoop, whoop sound of a helicopter hit her ears. She glanced up, shielded her eyes from the descending sun and saw a far off dot that grew larger. Her apprehension turned to relief when she saw the familiar red helicopter. It was the district rescue craft. She stood and her thoughts changed again. The only place to land was on the crop itself but the marijuana looked huge. It would be too dangerous!
"It's okay, Flossie. They're friends. Take me to Ryan and Clive."
Flossie looked at her for a moment, glanced at the incoming helicopter and barked.
"It's the red rescue helicopter. Not the bad men."
Flossie looked at her, wagged her tail and headed down through the bush away from the farm. Karla followed. They soon plunged under trees and the helicopter disappeared from view. She could still hear it, though and sighed in relief when the sound changed. The helicopter had slowed and was quite close.
Ten agonising minutes later Flossie and her arrived. She saw a yellow jacket through the trees first. A helicopter crewman was bending over someone. Clive, who crouched beside the man, must have heard them for he glanced up.
"Karla," he cried. "Flossie brought you here!"
"How's Ryan?" Karla rushed forward and noticed more. A stretcher was lying on the ground and above a yellow rope stretched up through waving branches. She could hear the helicopter above but could only see the underside of it above the foliage.
She saw him and cried out. There was blood everywhere and her partner lay on the ground with a shiny steel object sticking up from his right leg. Above it was a tight bandage threaded through and knotted under a steel handle.
The rescue crewman glanced up and nodded when Clive introduced him as Milton. "Hello Karla, I've read about the wonderful job you're doing at the local school."
Karla smiled briefly but kneeled beside Ryan. "Why is he unconscious?" she gasped.
"It's a precautionary procedure," Milton said. "He was in pain and passing in and out of consciousness. I've given him a sedative. He lost a lot of blood but luckily Clive applied a tourniquet. We normally don't recommend them but in this case it probably saved his life."
"But the arrow is still there!" Karla sobbed.
"He would bleed to death if we pulled it out here," Milton said. "We were just about to place the stretcher beneath him. Can you help?"
"Yes," Karla whispered.
She listened to Milton's instructions and watched, apprehensive as the two men lifted Ryan up by his arms and good leg. Oh God, she saw the arrowhead protruding out the back of his leg. It had gone right through!
She felt unexpectedly calm as she slid the stretcher in sideways beneath Ryan's body from the uphill side and watched the men lower him down. Within seconds, he was zipped in with only his head and wounded leg exposed. Straps were clicked together and the stretcher was held ready to be lifted. Milton spoke into a radio he held and guided the ropes until they became taut. There were four that came together into one about two metres above the stretcher.
With Milton guiding, the stretcher rose until it was out of reach. It swayed a little and Karla gasped as it was brushed by foliage before disappearing out of sight.
"My mate up there will pull him in. He's a medic like myself but is also an expert at operating the hoist. Ryan is in safe hands, Karla."
"Thank you," Karla found herself sobbing as she continued to stare up though the branches above that swirled in the helicopter's downdraft. She felt an arm around her shoulders.
Clive looked at her. "There's room for one passenger. I was going to go but why don't you?"
"Me? But how?"
"A chair will be lowered and you'll be pulled up," Milton explained. "Afterwards, it will be lowered for me."
"Go with him Karla. He'd rather see your pretty face than my ugly dial when he wakes up. I'll run your quad bike up on the tractor trailer and take them all home," Clive said.
"Could you call Sharon and tell her I mightn't make it to school in the morning?"
"Yes. We'll take care of everything."