Only Killers and Thieves(84)

Sullivan half rose in his chair and offered a hand across the desk. Billy jumped forward and grabbed it and they shook. Sullivan turned the hand to Tommy. When he gripped it the skin was plump and clammy and soft. He tried to pull away but Sullivan held him there, not even shaking anymore, staring at him until Tommy finally stumbled free. Sullivan flopped back into his chair. He waved them toward the door, reached for the decanter, and poured himself another drink.





32



“I still see them, you know, be coming at me my whole life is how it feels. Like we’re back there, never left—I’ll be doing something and look up and I see it all again. Smell the blood and the powder, hear them scream. Earlier, in the washroom, they were in the bottom of the bloody tub. I fucking saw them, Billy, and us too with our revolvers, shooting them one by one. I thought after, that must have been how God saw it, and maybe Mary if she was watching with him, though I’m hoping Daddy was right about all that. I think he was. We ain’t worth shit to God.

“The dreams are the worst part. Reliving it bit by bit. Most of the time it’s as it happened and we’re sitting out that dust storm, or hunting that first lot, or waiting out the night in the rain, but then it jumbles all together and I go from squatting by that roo Rabbit clubbed to drowning on my back in the mud. That native’s on top of me and I can never get him off, my arms are weak as twigs. He’s painted from his dancing and he’s pressing me down, then either he bites me or I bite him, it changes dream to dream. I don’t know how I do it but I get his fingers, his lips, his nose, and I can feel them crunching in my mouth. I don’t stop, though. Tear into him like a dog. Then he pulls out a knife and slits my throat and I feel the blood run warm. It’s happening backward, you see. Like I’m him and he’s me, whatever that’s supposed to mean.

“Only I don’t know that I’m dreaming; it always feels so real. Noone’s watching me shoot that woman in the back but she’s moving. . . . I thought she was already dead but what if I was wrong? I had six shots in that revolver, could have used them on the troopers, on Noone, but I did nothing. The idea never even came to me before now. I went along with it all like the rest of you, killed three of my own, and that’s the only truth that counts. You’d say that’s one for Ma, Daddy, and Mary, but how can that be right? Three plus three makes six, Billy. It doesn’t take it back to none.

“That’s how you think these days, though, isn’t it? Sullivan’s twisted your head. I’ve seen you more chewed up about putting down a horse than you are about what we did. They’re still people, Billy. If you talked to them you’d see that they’re not that much different to us. Arthur started out the same as that lot . . . even Rabbit, Kala; you know Rabbit only joined up because his family was killed? Whites killed his family so he took our side, figured he was safer with us than them. It’s like me and you joining a fucking Kurrong tribe.

“Throwing yourself at Sullivan makes no more sense—didn’t I tell you he was a snake? Kept Daddy on a short leash all his life with this debt, what else was there between them you and me don’t know?

“And we won’t be no different. He’ll treat us just the same. Daddy would be spitting if he saw the deal we made. We could have done all this differently, still could, but I know your mind won’t be changed. Think about it. If we’d taken Mary to Shanklin instead of coming up here, told MacIntyre about the killings and let him bring in Noone. We’d have been free of Sullivan, could have done anything, me and you. Leave this place, work our way south on whatever stations would take both of us, keep a bit aside, then when we’re old enough, put in for a selection of our own. Victoria, maybe, somewhere that gets the rain. Be nice, that. Later we could have put in for another run and had the two of them side by side. Sheep and cattle, maybe a few crops if the soil was right. Get married, have families, not answer to anyone but ourselves . . . I can’t live like this, Billy. Stay if you want. I’ll do it on my own.

“See, that’s what I was thinking with Kala: I don’t mean to set her on at the house like I said, I mean to turn her free. Soon as Noone brings her I’ll ride her out Bewley way, to those camps they have out there. Figured she could take up with that lot instead. I saw girls there once, Kala’s age, families and all that. Course, they might be a different kind of black—they don’t all talk the same, Rabbit says—but she’ll be better off there than wherever Noone has planned. Did I tell you that he fiddled with her? That night in the ranges, same night you . . . well, I just thought if I could help her before I left it was worth trying, that’s all. I don’t expect you’ll agree with me, but I ain’t asking, so don’t start.”

In the quiet darkness he lay on his back, listening to Billy sleep. The rhythm of his breathing, slow and steady, catching in his throat, that little ticking sound he made. Tommy rolled onto his side, hugged the blankets, and stared across at him, the shape of him. His family. Only a brother left. He slept so soundly, that was the thing. All this time Tommy had been talking, his brother had not so much as stirred. And yet here he lay awake, into the early hours, afraid to close his eyes.





33



He sat on the front steps, watching the west for signs of Kala coming in. Noone had agreed to sell her. Tommy didn’t know the price.