Force of Nature (Aaron Falk #2)(83)

Carmen tried it for herself. ‘There are no windows directly facing the back, either. So from inside, they wouldn’t have been able to see her heading for that northern trail.’

Falk thought about what the women had said and tried to imagine how it had played out. They said they had woken up and found Alice no longer there. If she had walked off alone, she would have crept away behind the cabin and into the dark. He thought of the timing of the voicemail message. 4.26 am. Hurt her. Whatever had happened to Alice Russell, it had almost certainly been under the cover of night.

He looked across the clearing. King was still busy in conversation. Somewhere behind the cabin was the northern trail. ‘Take a walk?’ he said to Carmen.

They waded through the long grass and into the trees. Falk looked behind him every few steps. They hadn’t gone far before the cabin disappeared. He was a little concerned they might miss the trail completely, but he needn’t have worried. When they found it, they knew. It was thin, but firm underfoot. A rocky bed had stopped it turning into mud in the rain.

Carmen stood in the middle of the path, looking one way and then the other.

‘I guess that way is north.’ She pointed, frowning a little. ‘It must be. It’s actually not easy to tell, though.’

Falk turned, already a little disoriented. The bushland was almost identical on both sides. He checked the direction from which they’d come and could see the searchers behind them. ‘Yeah, I think you’re right. That has to be north.’

They set off, the track just wide enough to allow them to walk side by side.

‘What would you have done?’ Falk said. ‘In their position. Stayed or tried to walk out?’

‘With the snakebite factor, I would have tried to walk. No choice, really. Without?’ Carmen considered. ‘Stay. I think. I don’t know. I wouldn’t have wanted to, not having seen the state of that cabin, but I think I would have. Bunkered down and trusted the search teams to do their jobs. What about you?’

Falk was asking himself the same thing. Stay, not knowing when, or even if, you’d be found? Walk, unsure what you were going towards? He opened his mouth, still not sure what his answer was, when he heard it.

A soft beep.

He stopped. ‘What was that?’

Carmen, a half-pace ahead, turned. ‘What?’

Falk didn’t answer. He listened. He could hear nothing but the rustle of the wind through the trees. Had he imagined it?

He willed the noise to come again. It didn’t, but he could recall it clearly in his mind. Short, subtle and unquestionably electronic. It took him a fraction of a moment to place it, but only a fraction. He put his hand in his pocket, knowing already that he was right. He usually heard that sound a dozen times a day. So often that, in context, he barely noticed it. Out here though, its strange and unnatural tone made him twitch.

The screen of his mobile phone was glowing. A text message. Falk didn’t bother to check what it said; the tone to alert him told him all he needed to know. He had a signal.

Falk held out the phone so Carmen could see. The signal was weak, but it was there. He took a step towards her. It disappeared. He stepped back and the signal fluttered once more to life. Falk walked a pace the other way. Gone again. There was a single sweet spot. Elusive and fragile, but perhaps enough for a broken message to get through.

Carmen turned and ran. Back down the trail towards the cabin, plunging into the tree line while Falk stayed exactly where he was. He stared at the screen as the signal flitted in and out and in again, not daring to take his eyes off it. Carmen reappeared a moment later, trailing a breathless Sergeant King. He looked at Falk’s screen, got on his radio, summoned the searchers. They delved into the bushland on either side of the trail, splashes of orange disappearing deep in the gloom.

Hurt her.

It took them less than fifteen minutes to find Alice Russell’s backpack.





Day 4: Sunday Morning


The clouds had cleared and the moon was bright and full.

Alice Russell’s blonde hair was a silver halo as she eased the cabin door shut behind her. There was a click and only the hint of a groan from the rotting hinges. She froze, listening. Her backpack hung over one shoulder, and she had something draped over her other hand. There was no movement from inside the cabin, and Alice’s chest rose and fell with a sigh of relief.

She placed her backpack silently at her feet and shook out the item draped over her arm. A waterproof jacket. Expensive, size large. Not hers. Alice ran her hands over the fabric, unzipping a pocket. She took something out, slim and rectangular, and she pressed a button. A glow, and a small smile. Alice slipped her phone into her jeans pocket. She rolled the jacket up and shoved it behind a fallen tree near the cabin door.

Alice slung her backpack over her shoulder, and with a click, a beam of torchlight lit the ground in front of her. She set off, quiet underfoot, heading towards the thick wall of trees and the path. As she disappeared around the side of the cabin, she didn’t look back.

Far behind her, on the other side of the clearing, through the papery strips of eucalyptus bark, someone watched her leave.





Chapter 24



Alice Russell’s backpack lay abandoned behind a tree. It was ten metres from the track, concealed amid thick scrub, and it was unopened. Almost, Falk thought, as though its owner had placed it down, stepped away and never returned.