Garry Disher: Two-Way Cut

What have I become? Leah thought. Wary, watchful and ready to run…

She shook off the thoughts. Nice wheels, Mitch.

Yep.

Mitch snapped forward suddenly and stabbed at the radio. There seemed to be six speakers in the car and it filled with sound, Mitch jerking like a robot at the wheel.

Not that crap! Tess shouted. Turn it off!

Leah turned around to grin at Tess, who had flung herself back into the corner, mouth pouting. Tess caught Leah’s gaze and rolled her eyes. She was full of signals and responses, as if her body reflected exactly every thought in her head. It was appealing, and Tess was no doubt accustomed to being seen as cute, but Leah wondered how appealing the cuteness would be after a few days.

She settled deeper into her seat and looked out at the world in the queer half-light of dusk, thinking about Mitch, Tess, and the car. A lot of car for a young guy. A lot of money. You had to wonder where it all came from. There was something hyper about Mitch. Maybe he was on uppers.

The road climbed and the motion of the car would have encouraged sleep if not for the head-banging music. A guard rail slipped by Leah’s window and she looked down into a shallow gully and a creek and weeping willows. There was something manicured about the setting, as though people picnicked there, and Leah guessed there was a town nearby. The shadows were long now.

Then she saw a sign: Prospect 3 km. Theres a town up ahead. If theres a campground or a caravan park Ill

There was a harsh smack of metal against metal and the big car swerved violently. Leah grabbed the dash with both hands. Beside her Mitch was fighting to keep the car stable. Behind them Tess shrieked and ducked low in her seat. Then another thumping sensation and at once the Monaro jerked again and Leah heard the tyre disintegrate and punch around inside the wheel arch.

She peered back through the rear window. A Range Rover was hard on them, slightly off to one side, as if preparing to ram them again. A shotgun was trained on them from the passenger seat. Suddenly Mitch lost control and the Monaro tore itself open along the guard rail for a few metres before hitting a stanchion and plunging through the rail. Mitch sat as if paralysed and Leah grabbed at the wheel in an effort to steer down the bank, feeling a jerk that almost snapped her wrist, and then they were tumbling about inside the car as it rolled.

In the hiss and ticking and awful stillness a minute later, Leah thought fire, and unstrapped her seatbelt. The Monaro was on its side and she couldn’t avoid trampling Mitch as she freed herself. The car groaned and settled at a crazier angle. Mitch was clearly dead, his neck broken. Tess was sobbing. Leah reached through, released the younger womans seatbelt and pulled her into the front before kicking out the windscreen, which peeled away like stiff cardboard. The Monaro protested again. Leah pushed Tess through the gap and slipped out after her, then grabbed her arm to haul her a safe distance from the car. She could smell fuel. She could smell heat rising, seeking the fumes and ignition.

But Tess broke away from her and ran back to the car.

Tess, don’t!

Tess ignored her, ran sobbing for the boot, which had sprung open during the crash. There was a soft whump of superheated petrol. Leah began to dash toward the car, just as Tess recoiled from it and ran back toward her, lugging a leather daypack and a small weekender bag on a strap.

In the lick of the flames then, Leah saw Tess grin, as if she were filled with a lust for life again, her tears forgotten. But beyond her, high above the burning car, the Range Rover was stationary, the driver and passenger watching. Then both men got out and began to ease purposefully through the twisted guardrail and down the slope.

How did they find me? Leah thought, running with Tess at full tilt through the long grass and tricky shadows.

Leah needed a refuge, a safe place where she could rest and do something about changing her face again. Somewhere with a radio, so she could monitor the news. Somewhere big enough to hide Tess, too, for the girl was caught up in this awful mess now.

But the country towns shed passed through today had been too small to provide that sort of cover. Nervy, suspicious places, wary of strangers. Would Prospect be any different? Would she encounter a cop like Drew in this town? Had Drew seen her in Tiverton and passed the word on?

She ran with Tess along the edge of the creek and they arrived at Prospect just as the streetlights were coming on. The first indications were favourable: motels, small businesses and flashing neon along the main street, with a sprawl of ugly new houses and flats at either end. There was even a mall. The town hall was as big as any shed seen in the suburbs of Melbourne.

When she saw the Range Rover prowling along the main street she pulled Tess into the shadows and watched until it had gone, and only then did she notice Tess’s condition. The younger woman was listless, unfocused, and Leah felt a pang of guilt and pity. Look, I’m really sorry about your friend, but we couldn’t stick around back there.

Tess made an effort, blinking, throwing off her vagueness. I know.

Those men were

They would have killed us, Tess said vehemently. I’m sorry I got you into this mess.

Got me into it? I got you into it.

Tess shook her head. A teenager skated past, drifting in lazy S shapes along the footpath, trailing the odours of fish and chips after him. I knew they’d catch up to us.

I don’t understand. Those men

It doesn’t matter, Tess said, her face and body shutting down. Lets just get away from here.

Ill take you to the police station if you like, but I wont go in.

Tess shuddered. No. God no.

It seems we both have reasons not to bring in the cops, Leah thought.

I’m sorry about Mitch, she said again.

Tess choked down a couple of sobs, then heaved a sigh. I knew it couldn’t last, but it was exciting while it did, she said, as if putting the very recent past behind her. Leah didn’t pursue it. Tess had maybe seen too many made-for-TV movies and had cast herself in this one, inventing the dialogue as she went along. She was seeing everything that happened as her story, her drama, when Leah knew damn well that the men in the Range Rover were not interested in a couple of drippy teenage lovers. Those men were after revenge.

It was dark before Leah found somewhere for them to spend the night. She didn’t want to stay in a house a house would mean curious neighbours. There are also neighbours in blocks of flats, but they tend to come and go and expect others to come and go. She didn’t expect anyone to ask her what her business was in this row of down-at-heel flats in a back street behind the town mall.

There had been lights showing in most of the flats in the first block, and all had empty letterboxes. Shed hurried Tess along to the next block. Flats 2 and 6 had not claimed their letters yet. She rejected Flat 2 when she heard raised voices behind the door. They climbed the stairs to Flat 6, where she listened for half a minute, knocked on the door and listened again. Silence.

How are we going to get in?

Key, I hope, Leah said.

She ran her hand along the top of the door surround, finding dust. She glanced around. There was a wrought-iron potplant stand nearby. The key was under a white stone at the base of a dying fern. She opened the door and they slipped inside.

There was no one home but the place felt lived in. Then she saw a movement in the corner. It was a cat, stretching awake in a basket on the floor.

They let themselves out quickly and walked down the stairs and along to a single-storey block of four flats in the next street. These Leah rejected immediately. According to a sign by the driveway entrance, the building was let to elderly parishioners of the Uniting Church, who were more likely than not to be at home.