The Amber Trail (6 page)

“
Please, sit down.”
Jake hastily arranged plastic seats around the table.
 

The men dropped into the seats
and Shiv laced his fingers together on the
surface
.

“
So how can we help
you guys?” Jake said.

Shiv attempted another smile
before speaking. “Before the unfortunate passing of your father, we
had a successful agreement with your company that lasted many
years.”

“
Yes,” Jake said.
“And let me say that we appreciate that agreement, and intend to
maintain it into the future.”

Shiv nodded slowly. “May I ask,
are you aware of the full extent of our past
arrangement?”

Jake glanced at Dig.
“Um...no.”

“
Well, maybe I should
explain. In exchange for receiving our hops, we would pick up
certain
packages
from your father every second month. Does
that sound familiar?”  

Jake scratched at the back of his
neck. “No, sorry,” he said. “Dad did all the material ordering...so
you might have to fill us in on the details.”

“
He didn’t mention
any package he was keeping aside this month?”

“
No.”

Dig’s eyes narrowed and a heavy
feeling settled into his stomach as a memory came back to him—a
memory of his father lying stricken on the bush track, struggling
to speak:
Tell...Max...the deal is off.
No...more...packages.

“
No more packages,”
Dig said, and everyone turned to look at him. Jake
frowned.

“
Do you work for
someone called Max?”

“
That’s correct.”
 

“
Well Dad did say
something about the packages, right before he died. He said tell
Max there are no more, and that the deal is off.”

Shiv’s lips pursed. “Are you sure
of that?”

A flush rose in Dig’s cheeks and
he shifted in his seat. “Look, I’m just repeating what he said. I
don’t know the history behind all this. You seem like nice guys and
all, but you may have Buckley’s of getting that package you’re
after.”

Shiv frowned. “What does this
mean—
Buckley’s
?”

“
It’s an Australian
saying.
Buckley’s Chance
—it means bugger all chance...pretty
much none.”  

Shiv’s jaw clenched and he
exchanged a whispered conversation with the bald-headed
thug.

A shoe thumped into Dig’s
ankle
. H
e felt his brother’s glare from
beside him, but Dig wouldn’t meet his eye. The three men continued
to talk amongst themselves. While he waited, Dig took a closer look
at them.

Shiv’s suit was clean and well
presented, but  something didn’t seem right. His shirt was a
sky blue business model, and while it seemed new, it had defined
creases running through it. In fact, the creases seemed to be
spaced across the fabric in a rectangular grid.

That shirt is fresh out of the
box,
Dig thought.

The collar of the shirt sat high
on Shiv’s neck, but it failed to cover the top of a dark circular
tattoo that was etched into the skin. Dig leant back to catch a
glimpse of Shiv’s feet. The shoes were brand new, shiny and black,
but he wore no socks. A feeling of unease took hold in his
chest.

Jake rose from his seat. “Hey,
Shiv. Don’t listen to him, he isn’t running this show. The deal is
still on
guys. We’ll get you whatever packages you need.
Just tell us what you want.”

Dig blinked rapidly, and grabbed
Jake’s arm. “I’m not sure if—”

“
Please,” Shiv
motion
ed
to the table. “Sit
down.”

Jake paused, then sat back
down.

A realisation dawned in Dig’s
mind—and the unease in his chest began to rise up his windpipe. “So
guys,” he said in a stilted tone. “I didn’t see you at the funeral.
You couldn’t make it?”

Shiv’s eyes were cold. “We
apologise but we were busy yesterday.”

“
Sure,” Dig said.
“Busy breaking into our house?” The words were out of his mouth
before he had time to consider them.   

The corners of Shiv’s mouth rose
slightly, and he leaned back in his seat. He took a deep breath,
then reached for the knot of his tie and loosened it. When it was
undone, he dropped into a curled heap on the table. He then
released the top button of his shirt, letting the collar fall away
from his neck to reveal more of the tattoo—a fire breathing
dragon.

“
I hate ties,” Shiv
said. “Feels like you’re being choked.” He tilted his head and
poked out his tongue, then held an imaginary rope above his head
and made a retching sound, before smiling.

Dig’s stomach knotted, and he
glanced at his brother.

“
Your father was a
good man. We could rely on him to be honest and do what he was
told.” Shiv drummed his fingers on the table. “But now? Well I’m
disappointed. I’m looking at two hopheads who seem incapable of
taking care of themselves, let alone become competent business
partners.”

“
No,” Jake said. “No
way, you’ve got that wrong—”

“
Really? Please, just
take a look at each other.”

Jake swallowed. “Listen, you’ve
caught us at a bad time...”

Shiv stood up, and his companions
rose with him.  

“
We can keep the deal
going, just give us a chance.”

Shiv shook his head, and gave
another unbalanced smile. “You won’t be hearing from us
again.”

“
Whoah.” Jake stood
and gripped the edge of the table. “Not so fast. Our father’s
funeral was
yesterday
. You need to give us some time to get
this place moving again. I’m sure we can figure something out. Just
tell us how much you want for your hops. We’ve got some big
contracts riding on those things. We can pay.”

Shiv turned to his colleagues.
“Let’s go.”

“
No!” Jake shouted.
He was breathing hard now, shoulders wide, with his fists clenched.
He stepped forward, and the thugs turned their attention to him.
“Don’t you understand? You’re screwing with our lives here. We
need
your hops to produce our beer, or this whole place will
go under.”

“
Jake,” Dig said.
“Let’s just calm down a bit.”

“
I have been calm!
But these guys need to listen.” He turned back to Shiv. “Now, if
you would please just
sit down
, we can come to a proper deal
on this.”

Shiv’s unbalanced smile returned.
“Let me explain this in a way that you might actually understand,”
he said. “You have...
Buckley’s
of making any deal happen.”
He cocked his eyebrows and turned to Dig. “Did I say that right?”
His colleagues chuckled behind him.

Jake took the final few strides
toward Shiv like a charging bull and took hold of Shiv’s upper arm.
“You aren’t going anywhere buddy,” he seethed, and a dab of spittle
shot from his mouth and landed on Shiv’s chin.

The bald-headed thug bounded
across the room, surprisingly quick for his size, and hooked an arm
around Jake’s neck, yanking him backwards. Jake struggled against
the man with his teeth clenched—his fingertips disappeared into the
fabric of Shiv’s suit arm. “You think you can break into our
house,” he shouted. “Then just waltz in here and laugh about it? I
think it’s time we called the cops.” He pulled hard on Shiv’s arm
and toppled him backwards to the ground, where he landed awkwardly
on his side. Shiv gritted his teeth before turning back to Jake
with his nostrils flared and eyes like pinpricks.

The thug dragged Jake backwards
across the room with his arms and legs flailing.

“
Leave him
!” Dig shouted, and threw himself at the
thug, driving his shoulder into his ribcage. The thug grunted and
buckled slightly, but remained upright. Dig fell to the
floor.

Shiv brushed at his suit with his
lips thin, then pulled himself to his feet. “Put him on the table,”
he said. The thug dragged Jake toward the table and pushed him
down, face first, then twisted his arm behind his back.

“
Get off me!” Jake
shouted
,
a
nd
tried
to wrench away from his grasp.

“
He can watch,” Shiv
said
. A
hand yanked Dig sideways by the
collar of his shirt and dragged him across the floor—the material
d
ug
into his chin. Dig managed a breath
before he was lifted and slammed forward onto the table.

His brother’s face was beside
him, etched in fear. “What are you doing?”
Jake
said in a high, strained voice. “Let us go.”
 

Shiv extracted a serrated metal
knife from the sink, and studied it. “Do you have anything
sharper?” He ran his finger across the blade, then crouched down
beside Jake at eye level. “I’m sure you’d prefer a clean cut.” He
shrugged before dimpling Jake’s cheek with its point. “But it seems
this will have to do.”

Jake’s face was pale and his
bottom lip trembled. “Look,” he said. “I may have overstepped the
mark a bit. You can go now, and we’ll forget about
everything.”

Shiv smiled. “I don’t think
you’ll be forgetting this.” He nodded to the bald-headed thug, who
yanked Jake’s arm to the tabletop. Shiv plucked his abandoned tie
from the table and fastened an end tightly around Jake’s wrist,
then tied the other end to the table leg. Jake buckled and pulled
at the tie, but he couldn’t escape the binding. The thug forced
Jake’s palm down hard onto the table, inches away from Dig’s
nose.

Shiv placed the blade between
Jake’s ring and pinky fingers. Before Dig had a chance to look
away, Shiv began sawing rapidly back and forth through the joint of
the pinky with a ripping, crunching sound.

Jake thrashed and bellowed.
“
Stop! My fi—Oh Chr—!
” His knee pounded against the table
leg, the table skipping forward across the floor with each impact.
  

Dig retched, and tried to subdue
the surge of vomit climbing into his throat.

Shiv continued to saw until the
blade dropped to the table with a thunk. He lifted the knife and
the finger rolled away, revealing a cross section of pink flesh and
cartilage, and a stream of blood that pulsed out of the wound,
creating an expanding crimson circle on the table top that crept
closer and closer toward Dig’s face. He clenched his teeth and
jammed his eyes shut.

“
No,” said a voice in
his ear. “You watch!” The point of the knife pressed into his ribs.
He glanced sideways. Shiv crouched beside him; his breath smelled
of stale cigarettes. “This is what happens if you don’t listen,” he
said. “Look at him.”

“
Let me up!” Dig
panted.

“
Nobody calls the
cops...right?”

Dig nodded quickly, his eyes
locked on the blood advancing across the timber surface. It was
within inches of his face now, a thick oozing fluid. Dig bucked
against the weight on his back, trying to break free. A wailing
moan rumbled in his throat.

“
Otherwise, we take
another finger. Next time it will be your mother’s. After that, we
take your ear. Understand?”

“
Yes!” Dig whimpered.
“We’ll keep quiet. Please...let me up.”

But they didn’t let him up, and
the blood pooled outward to reach Dig’s face, a sickening liquid
warmth that first encircled the tip of his nose, then seeped into
his nostril with a slippery metallic stink. Dig’s stomach clenched,
and he choked sour vomit onto the table-top.

The weight on the back of Dig’s
head released, and he scrambled away from the table, falling to his
backside on the floor. He wiped madly at his face.

His brother sat on the floor
beside him, cradling his arm. His pants leg was dark and wet, and
the stench of urine hung the air. “My finger!” he sobbed. “You
fuckers cut it off!”

Shiv stood over them, flanked by
his colleagues. “Yes,” he said, and reached to the table-top to
pick up the digit. The nail on the finger was visible, and quite
short. Jake had always been partial to biting them. “Max will want
this.” Shiv held it up with a wrinkled nose. He prised a square of
paper towel loose from a dispenser above the sink, and wrapped the
finger neatly inside.  

Jake moaned. His shirt was
covered in blood. “I’m going to die!”

Shiv smirked. “You’ll live. Take
my word for it.” He held up a hand, and Dig noticed for the first
time that his pinky finger was missing; a web of lumpy scar tissue
lay in its place. Shiv nodded to his friends, and they walked out
of the room.

Dig reached for the table and
pulled himself to his feet, then yanked a tea towel from the sink
and threw it to his brother. Jake wrapped it around his hand and it
immediately soaked red with blood.

“
We better get to the
hospital.”

“
I JUST DON’T
UNDERSTAND HOW
someone just
loses
a finger!” Dig’s
mother stood in the doorway to the hospital room, holding a curled
fist to her mouth. A nurse wheeled a bed through the corridor
behind her. “I mean, you must have seen where it went.”