The Outback
Authors: David Clarkson
THE OUTBACK
By
David Clarkson
This book is dedicated
to Katie, without whose patience, love and support it would never have been
possible.
A special thank you also
goes to Andrew Park, whose ability to spot my less desirable writing habits has
proven invaluable.
David Clarkson
Copyright 2013 by David Clarkson
Kindle Edition
Cover Image/Design by David Clarkson
Copyright 2013 by David Clarkson
Also by David Clarkson
Sapphire Sky
ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal
Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material
is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express
written permission from the author/publisher.
All
characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real
persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The game had ended only
hours earlier. His teammates were seated around a table at the back of the
tavern rejoicing in their triumph. Not one of them looked over. They were each
too self absorbed to notice that their star player had quietly slipped away. So
far as she could tell, she had his undivided attention.
‘What time do you finish
work tonight?’ he asked; the intimate implication of the question bringing
colour to her cheeks.
Working at the bar, she was
privy to much gossip about girls going with footballers. The rumours were not
at all flattering for the young ladies in question, but this was different. She
was different. The girls people spoke of were easy, but he would be able to
tell she was not like that. She did not have one night stands. She had never
even had a serious boyfriend.
‘The bar closes at
eleven sharp,’ she told him. ‘But with the time it takes to clean up and put
everything away for the night it can be close to midnight by the time I get
away.’
He took another sip from
his drink. Every action that he performed was precise, controlled and
calculated. Those intense, dark eyes of his, penetrated deep into her being.
‘That gives us plenty of
time.’ he assured her. ‘The summer nights are long. Maybe you could come back
to a party at my place after you finish work. By midnight things should be
warming up just nicely.’
A shudder ran through
her body as if he had reached out and tickled her spine. Despite going over
this conversation in her head a dozen times it was proceeding more quickly than
she ever imagined. The last thing she wanted was to come across as too eager,
too keen. It was important that he respected her. She was not sure if it would
be considered acceptable to go back to his place so soon.
‘Are you sure that you
want me there? I mean, I wouldn’t want to come between you and your friends.’
He addressed her concern
with his most reassuring smile.
‘Lots of the guys have girlfriends,’
he said. ‘Trust me. You won’t be intruding at all.’
To be mentioned in the
same breath as his teammate’s girlfriends was all the encouragement she needed.
She took it as proof beyond doubt that his intentions toward her were noble.
‘I guess I could maybe
drop by for a short while,’ she said. ‘Would you be able to pick me up?’
‘It’s a date,’ he
replied.
The connection was
formalised. He finished his drink and bought a replacement before rejoining his
friends at their table. They all stayed until last orders and collectively
consumed more beer than the bar would normally sell in a week. Glasses were
raised, songs were sung and everybody had a great time.
Despite the rowdiness of
the group, there was one, however, who kept his composure throughout the night.
He also kept to his promise and waited behind for his date to finish her shift
after his companions left.
‘I have a feeling that
tonight will be unforgettable for both of us,’ he told her, as she picked up
her coat.
The only response that
she could muster was a giggle. As they left the bar with their arms
interlocked, one of his teammates fell into step alongside of them. She thought
nothing of it as they would all be at the party together anyway. What she did
not realise was that there was not going to be a party. These two drunken young
men, to whom she had placed her trust, had something altogether different
planned. Even they, however, could not have known that they were about to kick
start a chain of events that would ultimately lead to murder.
For the first time since
leaving home he was genuinely lost. He had been away for a little under nine
months and the time had passed quickly; too quickly. In order to keep the
adventure going he had been left with just one option. Three months was the
commitment he made. Three months without beer, women and even fun; who knew?
Matt certainly did not.
He stood still whilst a
throng of people moved all around him. They were all in a hurry to get to
wherever it was that they were going. Everyone seemed to know exactly where
they needed to be. Everyone, that is, except him.
‘Harro, you go
Ber’bandi?’
Matt turned to find
himself facing a diminutive Japanese man. The speaker wore a chequered shirt
and black skinny jeans held up with a metal studded belt. A soft guitar case
was slung over his shoulder, leaving him to lazily drag his backpack along the
floor behind him. The look was topped off with a red neckerchief and cowboy
hat. If Kurosawa had made westerns, this would be his leading man.
‘Yes,’ replied Matt. ‘I
am going to Birribandi.’
He kept his speech slow
and precise so that he would not have to repeat himself. It was not the first
conversation he had shared with a non-native speaker of English.
The stranger smiled
before reaching into a pocket of his jeans from which he retrieved a small
folded slip of paper. Matt already knew what information the note would hold
before it was offered to him.
‘Are you going for the
harvest work?’ he asked.
The Asian nodded with enthusiasm.
He may not have possessed a great degree of skill with words, but his body
language provided a more than adequate compensatory factor.
‘I am Hiro,’ he said.
Again the image of the
cowboy appeared to Matt; the valiant loner who rides into town to save the day.
‘My name is Matt. I am
from England.’
‘Ah, Ingreesh. Very
cold.’
Hiro wrapped his arms
around himself, but the mime was not required. This was not the first time that
the reputation of Matt’s homeland had preceded itself in this way and nor did
he think it would be the last. He hoped others would soon arrive as he realised
that he would have few insightful conversations with the Japanese man. Luckily
for him, the two of them were soon joined by a pair of fellow travellers headed
the same way.
One of the newcomers was
short with unkempt dark hair and a plump, baby face. The other was taller and a
few years older. He had a clean shaven scalp and a countenance etched with
experience. His skin was pale and he possessed impossibly green eyes bordered
by crow’s feet that were like bird prints in the snow. It was this second man
who was to break the ice.
‘Now there’s a pair of
stick pickers if ever I saw them. I take it that you two boys are heading out
for the harvest work.’
His accent was warm,
relaxed and instantly recognisable to Matt.
‘I’m guessing that makes
four of us now. You’re from Ireland, right?’
‘Does the Pope wear a
silly hat?’
For the first time that
morning, Matt allowed himself to smile. The backpacker trail had introduced him
to many people and he had become adept at gauging if he was likely to have
anything in common with somebody from just the opening lines of a conversation.
He felt an instant chemistry with this man. The journey ahead no longer seemed
quite so intimidating.
He decided to initiate
the introductions as he knew his original companion would be out of his depth
in a group conversation.
‘This is Hiro and I’m
Matt.’ he said.
‘I’m Colin and your man
here is Jonas; he’s from Germany.’
There was something
about the way the man spoke that simply invited mischief. Matt was keen to
establish a repartee in order to calm his nerves regarding the journey ahead.
‘Are you two a couple?’
he cheekily asked.
‘It’s purely platonic so
feel free to ask him out if you’re looking for a boyfriend,’ the other man
replied, with comfortable ease.
‘He’s not my type so
I’ll have to pass on that.’
‘I suspected as much.
Once you’ve had Asian, you’ll never want Caucasian.’
The Irishman
suggestively nodded in the direction of Hiro. It was clear that if required he
could continue the verbal rally for as long as it took for him to achieve the
last word. Matt knew he could never win, but he had already taken what he
wanted from the conversation. He had established a potential friend.
‘Okay, I give up,’ he
conceded. ‘So do you know much about this place where we’re all headed?’
‘I know its name and
that it’s full of sticks that need picking, but beyond that nothing. I have
always preferred it that way. Life would be no fun without the surprises.’
‘Maybe,’ said Matt, a
tad uneasily.
Colin chuckled.
‘You’re terrified,
aren’t you?’
Matt thought about
telling a lie, but sometimes the truth, no matter how embarrassing, can be more
productive.
‘Completely,’ he said.
‘I mean, do any of us even know what this place is going to be like? I’ve heard
stories that make some of these places sound no better than prison camps.’
‘So why are you here?’
This was a question Matt
had asked himself many times. He joined the backpacker trail to have fun. It did
not disappoint him. Casual sex, alcohol and drugs were all easy to come by. The
problem was that he was running out of time. His choice was simple. He could
return to England and join the dole queue or spend three months doing harvest
work in the outback in order to get another year added to his Australian visa.
It was hardly a choice at all when he thought about it.
‘Let’s just say that I’m
not ready to go home just yet,’ he said. ‘I’ve got no qualifications and from
what my friends tell me, I’d struggle finding a job even if I had. There’s
nothing but an empty bank account and daytime television waiting for me back in
England. That doesn’t mean I am happy about what we’ve all signed up to though.
Do any of us even know what fruit we will be picking?’
‘I was told we would be
“stick picking”,’ replied Colin.
‘What kind of fruit are
sticks?’
‘Who knows; sugar canes?
The point is that we all get another year of partying in the sun at the end of
it.’
Matt nodded, although
nothing had really changed. He was still apprehensive about what lay ahead.
Colin merely reinforced his conviction that another year in paradise was worth
the sacrifice.
As the quartet continued
to get to know one another a coach pulled into the berth opposite them. Its
sides looked to be rusted through, but on closer inspection it could be seen
that this was merely the iron rich dust of the outback clinging to its bodywork
like a cheap spray tan.
An inspector dismounted
and walked around to the side of the coach where he opened up a large luggage
compartment. He no sooner raised the door, when a swarm of people began to
haphazardly deposit their belongings into the newly revealed cargo hold. Being
the least prepared, the backpackers were pushed to one side and found
themselves at the back of the line. Until then, Matt did not even notice that
so many passengers were waiting for the same service as he.
‘Tickets for
Birribandi,’ the inspector called.
The crowd arranged
themselves into an orderly queue, allowing Matt a better chance to take a look
at them. He presumed from their ages and style of dress that they were all
local to the destination. Half of them were Aboriginal and several had kids in
tow. Their faces contained none of the fear or apprehension that the
travellers’ did. They were merely going home.
Matt was the first of
the foreigners to take his place onboard the coach. He chose a window seat near
the front as those at the rear had already been filled by families with noisy
children. This was his first long distance coach trip and the last thing he
wanted was to have a baby screaming in his ear for seven hours.
‘Do you mind if I join
you?’ asked Colin, who was the next to board.
‘Be my guest,’ Matt told
him.
He had never experienced
such a long journey outside of an aeroplane, and without the benefit of
in-flight entertainment he was glad to have some company to while away the hours.
‘I cannot stand these
inland journeys,’ Colin said, as he took his seat. ‘Every time you look out of
the window the view is identical; blue at the top and red at the bottom. You
can travel five hundred miles, but feel like you’re standing still.’
‘Have you done this
before then?’ asked Matt.
‘What, travel on a bus?
Haven’t we all?’
Rather than being rude,
the Irishman’s sarcasm was quite endearing. His enunciation was so laid back as
to make the natives appear uptight. In Australia this was no easy feat.
‘I mean the outback,’
added Matt. ‘What is it like?’
‘The scale of it is mind
boggling, but you soon get used to it. It’s the place where the centre of the
universe overlaps with the outer edges of civilisation. Provided that you can
live without a few home comforts, you may even start to like it.’
Matt was pleased to
discover that his neighbour had experience in this type of environment. There
were a number of concerns he wished to resolve and he believed Colin would be
the one to reassure him.
‘Have you ever had any
trouble when you’ve been in the bush? I mean, it’s hardly the safest
environment known to man, is it?’
A knowing smile appeared
on the Irishman’s face.
‘Let me guess; you’re
worried about spiders and snakes, right?’
Matt shrugged. If the
question was that obvious then surely the concern was justified. Everybody knew
that the Australian Outback contained some of the most deadly creatures on the
planet and he wanted to know which, if any, of these creatures he was likely to
face.
‘Did a spider ever bite
you back home?’ asked Colin.
‘Well, no, of course
not.’
‘So why do you think one
would want to bite you over here?’
The Irishman had a
point, but Matt knew it was not that simple.
‘What about the snakes?’
Colin could do nothing
to conceal a wry smile.
‘I’ve done my fair share
of tours throughout this country. I’ve been to the Top End, Western Australia
and Uluru in the centre. At every one of these places the local tourist board
goes to great lengths to reassure everyone that any threats that concern them
are completely unjustified.’
‘So it’s all a myth
then?’
‘Not exactly; Australia
is home to all ten of the world’s most venomous snakes, but that does not
necessarily mean they are the most dangerous.’
This was hardly the most
convincing argument Matt had ever heard. He hoped there was more to it than
that.
‘That is like saying
that the ocean is made up of water, but this does not necessarily mean that it
is wet.’
This time Colin’s smile
progressed into a small chuckle.
‘Are you a mathematician
or something?’ he asked.
‘No; why do you ask?’
replied Matt, somewhat perplexed.
‘You seem a little too
focused on statistics that is all. Let me explain it the way your man told it
to us on the tour. An Asian cobra will kill a person just as soon as look at
them. It is responsible for more deaths per year than every snake breed in
Australia put together, yet the strength of its venom does not even rank it in
the top twenty of the world’s most deadly. Snakes here may have the venom, but
they’re not aggressive. Besides, most of them have fangs too short to even
penetrate your clothes. You’d be a fool to worry about them.’
This was exactly what
Matt wanted to hear. He thought that if he kept Colin talking he would only
receive more and more assurances that there was nothing for him to worry about.
‘So the snakes here are
chilled out is what you’re basically saying?’
‘Pretty much, yeah. The
only exceptions are the taipan and the death adder. Ever come across either of
those and you’re a dead man for sure.’
‘But there isn’t much
chance of that, right?’
‘No; not much. They’re
pretty rare everywhere apart from central Queensland.’
‘We’re headed to central
Queensland.’
‘Like I said; it’s
pointless worrying.’
Matt was beginning to
wish he had quit whilst he was ahead.
‘What do you mean
“pointless worrying”? Is it pointless because I won’t see any or pointless
because there would be nothing I could do if I did?’
Colin ignored the
question. Instead, he put a set of earphones into place and reclined back into
his seat with a triumphant grin on his face. Once again his mischief making had
proven successful. The journey was going to take seven hours, and for Matt,
each and every one would be filled with the terror of wondering what horrors
awaited him at the end of the road. He was headed into the outback and there
was no turning back.