Force of Nature (Aaron Falk #2)(95)

‘God, you scared me. I thought you were still inside.’ Bree made sure the cabin door was closed and stepped away, further into the clearing. ‘What are you doing up so early?’

‘Same as you, I guess.’ Beth nodded towards the outhouse.

‘Oh. Okay.’

There was an awkward pause, the ghost of the previous evening still clinging to them like smoke.

‘Listen, about last night –’ Beth whispered.

‘I don’t want to talk about it –’

‘I know, but we have to.’ Beth’s voice was firm. ‘Look, I know I’ve caused a lot of trouble for you but I’ll make it right –’

‘No. Beth, please. Just leave it.’

‘I can’t. It’s gone too far. Alice doesn’t get to threaten you and just get away with it. Not after how hard you’ve worked. She can’t push people around and then be surprised when they push back.’

‘Beth –’

‘Trust me. You’ve always helped me. All my life. Helping you now is the least I can do.’

Bree had heard words like these before. Day late, dollar short, she thought, then immediately felt mean. Her sister was trying. To her credit, she always tried. Bree swallowed.

‘Okay. Well, thanks. But don’t make things worse.’

Beth waved a hand towards the bushland with an odd half-smile. ‘Could they get any worse?’

Bree wasn’t sure who moved first, but then she felt her arms slip around her sister for the first time in years. It was a little awkward, the body that had once been as familiar as her own now felt so different. When they pulled away, Beth was smiling.

‘Everything will be all right,’ she said. ‘I promise.’

Bree watched as her sister turned and slipped back inside the cabin. She could still feel the warmth of Beth’s body against her own.

She ignored the outhouse – there was no way she was going in there – and instead walked around the side of the cabin. She stopped short as she saw that horrible dog grave. She’d almost forgotten about that. Bree turned her face away and walked straight past it to the back of the cabin, through the long grass towards the trees and the trail until the grave was well out of sight. She was about to undo her trousers when she heard something.

What was that? A bird? The sound was coming from the trail behind her. It was a tinny noise, artificial and piercing in the still of the morning. Bree held her breath, her ears almost ringing with the effort of listening. That was no bird. Bree recognised that sound. She spun towards it and broke into a run. Up the trail, almost tripping on the uneven surface.

Alice was sitting on the ground, her legs out in front of her, leaning back against a rock. Strands of blonde hair lifted gently in the breeze, and her eyes were closed. Her head was tilted back a little towards the sky as though she was enjoying a ray of non-existent sunshine. And the pocket of her jeans was ringing.

Bree fell to her knees.

‘Alice, the phone. Quick! The phone’s ringing!’

She could see it wedged against Alice’s thigh. The screen was smashed but it was glowing. Bree grasped it, her hands shaking so violently it nearly tumbled from her fingers. It rang in her hand, shrill and insistent.

On the shattered screen, the caller’s name flashed up. Two letters: A.F.

Bree didn’t know and she didn’t care. With thick fingers she stabbed at the answer button, nearly missing it in her haste. She pressed the phone to her ear.

‘Hello? Oh my God, please. Can you hear me?’

Nothing. Not even static.

‘Please.’

She took it away from her face. The screen was blank. The name had disappeared. The battery was dead.

Bree shook it, her hands slippery with sweat. Nothing. She pressed the power button, then again, and again. The screen stared back, completely blank.

‘No!’

Her stomach lurched as hope was snatched away like a rug pulled from under her feet. She turned and vomited bile into the bush, tears stinging her eyes, the disappointment crushing her chest. Why hadn’t Alice bloody answered it sooner? There might have been enough power for even one call for help. What was the stupid bitch thinking, leaving it on at all? Wasting the battery.

It was as Bree turned to ask exactly that, vomit and anger burning in her throat, that she realised Alice was still sitting in the same position, leaning against the rock. She hadn’t moved.

‘Alice?’

There was no response. The relaxed pose of Alice’s limbs now looked floppy and puppet like. Her back was at an awkward angle, too, with her head lolling back. She didn’t look peaceful. She looked vacant.

‘Shit. Alice?’

Bree had thought Alice’s eyes were closed but she could see now that they were a tiny bit open. Little white half-slits stared at the grey sky.

‘Can you hear me?’ Bree could barely hear her own voice over the pounding in her head.

There was no movement and no response. Bree felt light-headed. Like she wanted to sit down next to Alice, perfectly still, and disappear.

Alice’s half-slitted eyes continued to stare until Bree couldn’t stand it anymore. She stepped sideways so she could no longer see her face. The back of Alice’s head looked a little strange and Bree leaned as close as she dared. There was no blood, but the skin of her skull looked mottled and purple where her blonde hair parted. She stepped back, her eyes on the ground.