Burning for Revenge (17 page)

The jeep sat on the steep slope of the bank, quite a way from the soldiers, and I began wondering if I could get to it without them noticing, and whether it would do any good if I did. By the time I started the engine and put it in gear I'd be wearing bulletholes. So I continued to lie still, gazing at the jeep wondering what to do, getting colder and colder.

Then I thought I saw a movement. I stared even harder at the jeep. And after about twenty seconds I swore it did begin to move. I blinked several times, positive that I was seeing things. But no, it was definitely rolling. The handbrake must have failed! Amazing coincidence though. Maybe it wasn't the handbrake; maybe it was the power of my looking at it and thinking about it. Maybe I was a poltergeist.

The soldiers on the other side of the river saw it first, both at the same time. They yelled desperately, and waved, to get the attention of the other two. And those two, as soon as they realised, dropped their rifles and ran up the hill as hard as they could go.

The jeep accelerated quickly on the steep slope. It rolled steadily towards the river, but off the line of the road, heading straight for a pool that looked quite deep. So it wasn't surprising the soldiers were keen to stop it. They sprinted up on the track, yelling advice at each other, while the other two, on the opposite side, actually stepped into the water, watching anxiously and yelling more advice.

None of them saw what I saw. Lee's lean body, silent, stealthy, slipping out of the bushes and grabbing the rifles the two soldiers had dropped. Lee retreating quickly into the bushes and training one of the rifles on the two armed soldiers. Lee lying there, waiting, ready to shoot them when he felt like it. And after what had happened to Lee's parents, I felt he would be pulling the trigger sooner rather than later.

The jeep, travelling fast, careered past the two soldiers on our bank. Both of them made attempts to stop it. The older man ran alongside it for about ten metres. He had a hold of the doorframe on the driver's side and pulled back on it, trying to stop it with his own strength, but he had no hope. Jeeps are light, sure, but this one had built up too much speed. It dived into the water with a great splash and settled quickly, sinking straight away with clouds of bubbles erupting around it, until only its windscreen and the top of the body were visible. It was well and truly sunk.

What happened then was fascinating. I'd realised by then that I wasn't really a poltergeist: Lee had worked his way around through the bushes, and caused the jeep's little accident. But from then on, I felt maybe I was psychic. Because the soldiers did exactly what I anticipated. At every step of the way, they were like characters in a play I'd written. It was as though they'd read the script. It would have been funny except that the whole situation was too serious.

First I thought: "Well, they won't want to admit to their officers that they've been so stupid, so they'll try to get it out themselves."

And that's what happened. The two on the other side waded across the ford, with much shouting and arm-waving and arguing. They gathered at the jeep and stood staring down at it. "Look for a tree, guys," I thought. "That's your only hope." Sure enough, they started gesturing at the nearest big tree and it was so obvious what they were saying: "We could tie a rope or a chain to this trunk and haul the jeep out."

They still glanced up the river from time to time, so they hadn't completely forgotten what they were there for, but their main interest had changed a lot.

"They'll decide to get a winch," I thought, "and two of them'll go to get it while the other two stay here."

About a minute later, after more arguments, the two who'd been on my side of the river came down the bank to where they'd dropped their rifles. My heart suddenly felt pain. If they were going to look for a winch, why couldn't they have done it without their rifles? Now, because of their stupid attention to detail, because they were good soldiers instead of careless ones, we were back in the most awful situation. Lee would have to shoot all four of them before they could retaliate. The odds were on his side, with two of them unarmed, but it was still terribly dangerous. Even if he survived the gun battle, we didn't know how many more soldiers might be just over the hill. There could be an entire army Besides I sickened by all this killing. My stomach rose my gorge rose, at the thought of more blood. I couldn't take any more, not today, please.

But I couldn't look away either. I stared at the soldiers. When was Lee going to rise up from the bushes and start firing? Now Lee, better do it now, before they get any closer. Now Lee! Come on, hurry up, don't leave it too late, you need the advantage of surprise, don't throw that away. Lee, what are you doing?

The soldiers reached the spot where they'd left their rifles, bent over, picked them up, and walked back up the rise.

I was astounded. I was in shock. I lay there with my mouth open, gaping at them. Psychic powers, OK, but this was ridiculous. Was the rifle fairy operating around here? Was this cool shady clearing a magic place, an enchanted forest? I didn't know. I wasn't even sure whether the soldiers had rifles or not now. Maybe Lee hadn't picked them up in the first place. Maybe I was on another planet. Maybe I was hallucinating. I nearly pinched myself, but didn't bother. I knew I would feel a pinch, and I was already hurting enough from the bruises I'd collected at the airfield.

The two soldiers walked past their mates and on, up the hill and over, until they were out of sight. Seemed like they'd drawn the short straw.

The two who were left stood above the jeep, discussing its situation. They were very anxious. Their commanding officer must'have been a real bastard. I think they were scared of going back to him without a jeep. Or they were just unhappy at the thought of a long walk back to base.

I had been so interested in what was happening that I'd stopped thinking about my cold and cramps and discomfort. I'd stopped thinking about the others too. So I was startled out of my brain when Homer and Lee suddenly leapt up and down out of the bushes, waving at me.

They were mad. Crazy mad, the worst kind. It was like those telecasts of football matches, where after the game the kids are behind the guy doing the interviews, and they act as if they're on pogo sticks, waving at their mums and screaming stupid comments.

Well, I'm glad to say Homer and Lee didn't scream. And they didn't hold up signs saying "Hi Mum" or "Molong Football Club." But they did everything else. They leapt around like they'd camped on an ants' nest and the ants had invaded their jocks. It was a dumb thing to do. But the soldiers were so engrossed in the jeep, and in looking up the river for us, that they didn't see anything behind them. Homer and Lee could have stripped and done
The Sound of Music
in the nude and the two soldiers wouldn't have noticed.

There was a point to it of course. Well, I don't know why I said "Of course," because those two idiots didn't need a reason for anything. But they were sending the rest of us a message. Then I realised they weren't sending the message to the rest of us. They were sending it to me. I saw that Kevin and Fi were behind the other two. They'd already gotten around the ford and were well past the danger. I was the only one left on this side.

The trouble was, that right from the start my position hadn't been as good as theirs. They'd all hidden higher up the bank. That meant they'd been able to get to the top, go over the crest, and work their way around. With me there was a big difference. I had so far to go up the bank that the risk was simply too great. I felt terrible being the only one there, being so alone, but I knew I'd have to wait for something to change for me to get away. It was good that the soldiers had been reduced to two, but they were still too alert.

I stayed there for another half an hour. Homer and the others gave up trying to attract my attention. I was relieved about that. I didn't like people doing anything too crazy these days. It upset me. I wasn't even sure if they knew where I was hiding. It depended on whether anyone had seen me scuttling behind the fallen tree.

At last the two missing soldiers came back with a winch. I was impressed by that. I don't know how they found one in the middle of nowhere, but they had, old and battered though it was. And they knew how to use it. When they began to set it up, running the chain around a big old river red gum, I decided to make my move. If I didn't go now I mightn't get another chance. I started to slither and wriggle up the bank.

The blackberries were the worst. They always seem like they're out to get you. It's personal with blackberries. I hate them. They caught my clothes, my skin, my hair. And of course the more you get mad at them and try to rip away, the deeper they sink their claws in. I lost my temper with them half a dozen times but it didn't do any good. They love it when you lose your temper.

At least the soldiers were totally absorbed the whole time. They were doing quite a good job, I noticed, the few times I looked at them. Before I'd worked my way up to the top of the ridge they had the jeep half out of the water.

It was about then that I realised we had a big problem. I assumed Homer or Lee had let the handbrake off, to make the jeep run down the slope into the river. So far, so good. But what worried me was the reaction of the soldiers when they did the postmortem. I figured I'd better talk to Homer and Lee, and fast. As soon as I got across the ridge I started running. I'd only covered thirty or forty metres when Homer, then the others, popped up in front of me, looking very pleased with themselves.

"We're home free," Homer said. "Let's go."

"Uh uh," I said. "I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"In about one second they're going to check the jeep to see why it rolled down the slope."

They all stood there staring at me, looking puzzled.

"Oh yes," Lee said. Suddenly he'd realised.

There was no question in my mind that the soldiers were about to work out that their jeep had been sabotaged. And immediately my mind jumped to the next thought. They had to die, before they could tell the others we were in the district. More deaths. We had a problem, and these days I thought automatically of killing as the answer to every problem.

At least this time I wasn't going to be the one who killed them, I was sure of that.

"What's the problem?" Fi asked. "Why can't we go?"

"The soldiers are going to find the handbrake off," I explained. "And they'll know one of us must have done it."

"But it could have come off accidentally," Fi said.

"Don't think so."

"But why not?" Fi persisted.

I nearly didn't bother answering, but then said, "It just wouldn't. Not while there's still tension in the cable."

There was a pause, then Fi said: "What about if it came off again?"

There was another pause, a longer one, then suddenly her meaning hit me. I'd only been half-listening, while I tried to work out some way of stopping the soldiers. Tie them up, take them hostage, shoot them? We didn't even have a gun!

But then I realised what Fi was getting at. Without another word I belted back up the slope, dropping on all fours as I approached the crest. I knew I could get a nasty surprise if I came face-to-face with a soldier, but time was so short I had to take the risk. I slithered the last few metres, then peeped over the edge.

They'd got the jeep out of the water. It sat on the bank, looking wet and sloppy and sorry for itself. Two soldiers were inside, one was fiddling with the aerial on the back, and one was getting the hook from the winch off the towbar. "That's me," I thought approvingly and conceitedly, looking at him. "I'd be the one doing the boring job of getting the chain while the others have fun, inspecting the drowned jeep."

He was having trouble though. He was trying to free the chain with one hand while holding his rifle at the ready and looking around all the time. Next to him, the guy playing with the aerial slid it up and down as he called instructions to the man in the front seat. They seemed very excited, very anxious. Their attitude was certainly different from a few minutes back. It was like someone had dropped hot coals down their backs.

I put the clues together. They'd realised the handbrake had been released. They'd decided it was no accident. They knew we were around somewhere. They were trying to call for help.

One thing meant good news for us though. I think their only radio was the one inside the jeep. The soaking in the water had damaged it. That was a bonus.

Everything now depended on their next step. Would they get the radio working? Would they get the jeep started, and rush away for reinforcements? Or would they look for us first?

It might come down to a question of what would get them in the least trouble. Having to admit that we pushed their jeep in the water while they stood around doing nothing could be pretty embarrassing. However, if they came back with our bodies, dead or alive, no one would give a stuff about the jeep getting wet.

There was a lot of talk going on, even shouting at times. I guess they were debating the very issues that I was thinking about. All four of them kept looking around so anxiously all the time. They were very aware of us.

Their next step was to try to start the jeep. They didn't have much of an idea. For people who knew their way around a winch they seemed surprisingly helpless when it came to starting a wet engine. One of them sat in the driver's seat turning the key while the others stood by alternately looking for us and shouting advice at the driver.

When it became obvious that the car wasn't about to start they went to Plan B. And that gave me my chance.

Plan B was a search of the area. I suppose they didn't like the thought of returning to base unless they'd done that much. And maybe they thought the car would dry out while they searched.

They started upstream. They did it methodically. They'd obviously been trained for this. Two stood at the back scanning the area, rifles held ready. The other two beat their way through the bushes using their rifles like sticks. Dad would have had a fit. He always kept our rifles in top condition. I'd dragged several thousand pull-throughs down their barrels over the years. One speck of dirt and I had to do it all over again.