Читать книгу Blood & Dust - Jason Nahrung - Страница 11

The grain elevator sat like a rusting rocket ship next to the train tracks, the towering silos spotted black with missing panels, a skeletal gantry tacked to one side, broken windows staring out from the long cabin capping the tubes. There was nothing but dirt and mallee trees for miles; the lights of Barlow's Siding made a faint corona on the horizon. The site had been abandoned back before Kevin had left school, relegated to being a place to sink booze and get laid and drag race. The council had erected a mesh fence, as if none of the country kids could use wire cutters, and the sheds and silos were covered in graffiti and littered with the remains of camp fires, beer bottles and used condoms. It was a Thursday night, school had just started for the year, and he hoped to Christ that no-one was out here half cut and with their pants down. No-one other than him, anyway.

Kala circled the building and parked where they couldn't be seen from the road. She killed the motor and the headlights and the night came down, still and quiet under the cloudy highway of the Milky Way, the half moon riding high. She sat, hands on the wheel, as though catching her breath. She wore frayed jeans and a checked shirt open over an Iron Maiden singlet. At least she had good taste in music. A silver crucifix dangled from her ear where her spiky short-back-and-sides failed to reach. Her eyes were dark brown except at times when they caught the light in a funny way; they got a sheen over them, a kind of icy red glaze that made Kevin think of an eagle or a leopard maybe. That made him think of Hunter.

'Did you see anyone other than those women at your house; some suits, maybe?' she asked. 'Cops?'

He couldn't swallow. His heart shuddered; his lungs ached, airless. All he could see was Mira on top of him. God, it was as if he was right back there again, pushing against her weight, hearing her voice slicing into him like a harpoon:

You want to survive this, then you keep your mouth shut.

'No, nobody; just my family.'

'Lucky,' she said. 'Lucky your friends were there or you might have had a real unpleasant visit. You'd be dead now, probably. Your mum too, maybe. They don't like loose ends.'

'I'm a loose end?'

'Don't worry. Your mum will be okay as long as she plays the game. It's you they would've wanted.'

'What game? Who's they?'

'We should go. Taipan will wanna tell you what's what.'

She took the key. A glint of silver; a Mexican key ring, one half sun, the other moon. It disappeared into her palm, then into her jeans, her groin thrusting up toward the wheel as she manoeuvred to slide the keys away. She gave a slight moan, the kind that comes from sitting in one place too long, of muscles strained and joints locked.

That tiny sound electrified him from ear to crotch.

'Nice wheels,' he mumbled, for the sake of saying something, anything; afraid of the loaded silence; afraid of the unintended sexuality of her action, of the constriction in his chest, of the sudden and unexpected surge of lust stiffening his cock; ashamed that he could even notice something like the tight cut of her jeans at a time like this, let alone get a hard-on because of it.

'It might not be the most sensible car to drive out here, but I just love it,' she said, patting the vintage coupe's steering wheel with an affection that made him instantly jealous.

'Yours?'

'Black girl can't own a Monaro?' There was an edge to her voice.

'It's a classic,' he said. 'They don't make 'em like this any more.'

'No, no they don't.' Then, more gently, 'How are you doing?'

He cleared his throat. 'How do you think?' He rubbed his eyes and his face, crouched forward with the weight of the confusion filling his skull.

'Take your time,' Kala said. 'You're safe here.' The light came on as she opened her door. 'I'll go find Tai.'

Kevin could smell the abandonment; it drifted around him like smoke, filled the cabin, pressing him down into the seat. Kevin sat for a moment trying to make sense of it all as the last of the adrenalin drained from his muscles, leaving him exhausted. He fumbled for the door handle, then lurched out onto the ground and retched. When he was empty, his stomach a tight, collapsed hollow, he wiped the drool on his sleeve and pulled himself to his feet.

A whistle pierced the still, cold air. He pulled himself back to the now, to the fact he was alone with people he didn't know but who apparently knew something about what had happened to him and his family. He might, he knew with a rousing hit of realisation, die here.

'Whitefella,' a male voice called. 'Up here.'

Two figures perched like crows on a beam high above. Kala, and the biker who had… The biker from yesterday. Today. Only this morning. Taipan.

A rickety iron staircase led to a shattered remnant of landing near the couple. He made his way up slowly, aware of the tremble in the structure, the blotches of graffiti. He'd come here from time to time, to drink beer and make out around a campfire. This was the first time he'd been scared. He reached the beam and hesitated. The ground was a head-spinningly long way down, even if the beam was wide enough to sit on.

'C'mon,' Taipan said. 'Wotcha 'fraid of?'

Kevin gritted his teeth and inched his way along. The ground twirled. His guts tightened, hungry or nervous or both, making him dizzy.

Taipan sniffed as Kevin sat down beside Kala.

'You burn ya dinner, Kay?' Taipan asked. 'Stop for a sausage sizzle?'

'Bit of a mess at the house, but I got there in time. Just.'

'That blood part of the mess?'

'A girl got bit. But she's still kickin'.'

Taipan sniffed, patted his stomach. 'Makes a man peckish.'

'Shut up: you've been fed.'

His hand brushed her cheek and she pulled away.

It made Kevin nervous. The bar wasn't that wide. He wished they'd just sit still, damn it.

'VS was watching the joint,' Kala said.

'Them Hunters who picked me up at that old bitch's place?'

'Hippie didn't think so. A woman, he thought.'

'And no sign of them Hunters?'

'There was a four-wheel-drive; it followed the wrong car.'

Taipan gave a malicious chuckle. 'That Hunter, he ain't bin havin' a good day, has he?'

'You gonna tell me what this is all about?' Kevin asked.

Taipan took a packet of tobacco from his pocket and set about rolling a cigarette. Kevin watched with increasing frustration as the biker licked the paper to seal the cylinder, then tamped the end with his lighter before lighting up. Taipan offered the cigarette to him. Kevin waved it away. The biker's nose twitched. He asked Kala, 'This fella smell funny to you?'

'All I can smell is that stink you're so fond of.'

A curlew called, the high-pitched cry sending a shiver up Kevin's spine. The iron felt cold through his jeans, the air fresh but thin as he fought for breath.

'Kala, why am I here?' Kevin asked. It was as if the biker could tell what Mira had done to him. Like he was just trying to decide the easiest way to kill him. He gripped the beam. 'What, what are you guys talking about?'

She turned to Taipan, but he just stared straight ahead through another noxious cloud of smoke.

'One of you, please - tell me what's going on!'

'You're a vampire,' the biker said finally.

'Piss off,' Kevin said.

'You're a vampire and nothin' can kill you,' Taipan told him. 'Nothin' much, anyways.'

'Yeah, right. And pigs can fly.'

'Pigs maybe. Not you.' Taipan reached behind Kala and shoved Kevin between the shoulder blades.

Kevin pitched forward, screaming all the way to the ground. He landed on his back. The impact knocked the wind from him, left his head ringing and his vision hazy. He could still hear, though, over the buzzing in his ears.

'Good one, Tai,' Kala said. 'What if he'd landed on something?'

'Like what? A wooden stake? That whitefella has to learn and learn quick if he's gonna make it. Not that I'm convinced that he should.'

'You can be such an arsehole.'

'You teach him, then. Maybe there's a bit more of the whitefella in you than the blackfella, eh?'

'That's not fair.'

'No, it ain't. You shoulda learned by now that nothin' is. Let me know when you've made up your mind.'

Kevin drew a deep, pain-filled breath and opened his eyes. Abstract shapes flitted across his vision like speeding clouds crossing the stars. He made out Kala and Taipan, standing on the beam.

'Take that whitefella to the farmhouse,' Taipan said. 'I gotta go pick up some gear, then we'll head for the coast. Somewhere with a bit'a cover till we shake VS off our tail.'

Kala's voice dropped, so low Kevin could only just hear. 'What about Willa?'

'She made her point.' Taipan rubbed his chest.

'Tai, be serious. After all of this, you're just gonna walk away?'

'Just leave it be.' He pointed at Kevin with his glowing cigarette. 'It's bad enough we got excess baggage.' He jumped and landed easily, on both feet, near Kevin. 'How you feelin' there?'

Kevin tested his vocal cords, the words coming out hoarse but gaining strength. The pain in his back and chest had subsided, making it easier to breathe. 'I'm okay. I'm alive.' Amazement burst into anger. He struggled to get to his feet. 'What the bloody hell did you think you were-'

Taipan pulled a pistol and shot Kevin in the chest.

Kevin slammed back into the ground, his hearing reverberating with the blast. He lay there, chest burning, gasping for air like a beached yellowbelly.

'Yeah, you're alive,' Taipan said, still pointing the pistol at Kevin. 'Lucky you.'

'Tai,' Kala yelled. 'That's enough!'

Taipan flicked the safety and returned the weapon to its place against the small of his back. 'That girl there, she'll look after you, eh. She plenny good at that.' Taipan shouted at Kala, 'Keep your eyes peeled, they'll be lookin' for us,' then walked around the corner of the building. A motorcycle shattered the quiet.

Kevin lay helpless, seething with impotent rage as the tail lights vanished. Kala arrived. She must have taken the stairs. He ignored her and finally was able to sit up. He felt his chest, and his fingers came away sticky and dark with blood. The sight made his throat constrict, his gut lurch. Jesus, it burnt, inside, like needles being stuck in his heart. A heart that had just had a bullet put through it at point-blank range.

'Was he for real?' he asked.

'What do you think?'

He eyed the blood on his palm, then wiped his hands on the ground, on his jeans, but he couldn't get them clean. The pain in his chest was fading. It didn't hurt so much to breathe.

'I guess,' he whispered.

She offered her hand and he let her pull him up.

Kevin eyed the beam overhead, the roughly Kevin-shaped depression in the dirt. 'Where'd he go?'

'Who knows? We're on our own for now.'

'I want to go home,' he said.

'It's not safe for you. Not for your folks, either.' She walked toward the Monaro. 'C'mon, you're gonna need somewhere to spend the day.'

'So the sun part's true, eh?'

'Yeah,' she said. 'Kind of.'