Two-Way Cut

chapter 3

It was not Leah but her backpack that caught the full force of the passenger-side bumper of the muscle car. Leah had positioned herself at the far end of a rest stop, her pack at her feet, beyond the rubbish bins and two metres clear of the tarmac, giving motorists plenty of room in which to pull off the road once they’d spotted her. But the sun was low on the horizon and fell in a hard bright band across the raked windshields of the passing cars. Leah saw the drivers squinting against it, unable to see her. She could cross the road and hitch a ride in the opposite direction, but east meant back to the city, and her old strife, so she stood where she was and waited for someone to slow down and pull over. Then that muscle car veered at her suddenly, leaving the sealed surface, all four tyres spewing dust and gravel, tail twitching as the driver sought traction, and then it was upon her. Leah stepped back instinctively and flinched as her pack was flung aside like a… like a body.

Her heart hammering, Leah stared after the car, which fishtailed past her in the dust and stopped, its brake lights flaring. Other instincts kicked in then and she coolly noted the colour, make and number of the carfire-engine red, latest model Monaro, this years registration and prepared to run.

But something made her hold back. There had been an element of panic and confusion in the motion of the car, as though it had not been choreographed to kill her. Sure enough, the front doors opened a moment later, a young guy getting out of the passenger side, a young woman out of the drivers side. The young woman spoke first, her voice shaky.

God, are you okay?

And the guy said, Jeez, when I heard that thump I was sure wed collected you.

The girl hurried toward Leah. I’m so sorry, I just didn’t see you, the sun…

The guy sauntered after her. She wanted to listen to Triple J, I wanted Fox FM, and the next moment—

I took my eyes off the road for just a second, honest, the girl said.

She was now standing directly in front of Leah, full of the beat of strong emotions: excitement, relief, curiosity. She wore tight red jeans, slim-line lace-up ankle boots, a white T-shirt that showed the tops of her flushed breasts. She was good-looking in a careless way, as if she sought and found risky distractions in lifelike almost running down hitchhikersbut got bored easily. She removed her dark glasses and clamped the frames on top of her head, revealing grey-green eyes that were more amused than apologetic.

Your lucky day, she said, barely suppressing her laughter.

For me, maybe, Leah said, eyeing the backpack, tumbled in the dust.

Well buy you a new one, no probs, the guy said.

He stood by his girlfriend and put his arm around her waist until they were joined at the hip and grinning good-naturedly. Leah assessed the guy rapidly: early twenties, dark hair cropped short and dyed purple at the tips, earring, eyebrow stud, jaws chomping away on a stick of gum. Black jeans, black T-shirt, black studded belt, black shoes as chunky as blocks of carved wood.

There was a moment of silence and then the girl said, Wherere you headed?

Leah shrugged. Wherever the road takes me.

If shed read these two correctly, they would heartily approve of an unconventional life. Shed never have given that answer to a straight-looking person. Straight people always had specific destinations.

Well, get in, the guy said. Hed stopped chewing long enough to absorb Leah’s answer, now was chewing hard again. Least we can do for you.

The girl grabbed Leah. Yeah, come with us, she said, swinging Leah’s arm as if delighted with her, with herself, with life. For the ride of a lifetime, she said, giggling.

Leah disengaged, crossed to her pack, and dusted it off. The flap was torn, a buckle snapped in two, but it was otherwise intact. Couldve been worse, she said.

Great, the guy said. Hop in the front. Ill drive.

The girl sashayed at her boyfriend, poking him. Yeah, right, put me in the back so I cant listen to Triple J.

They guy gaped at her in mock dismay. Who, me?

She waggled herself at him. Thats right, big boy.

It was all for Leah’s benefit, as if they were in love with being lovers and believed the old saying that the world loves a lover. But all it did was make them look younger, and in ordinary circumstances shed have avoided them like the plague. Right now she needed them.

A few minutes later they were leaving the state forest and heading into a region of low hills and grazing land. Leah, in the passenger seat, felt insulated from the world and settled back, feeling more secure than she had for days. Then she felt fingers reach around from the back seat and rest on her shoulder, and a soft voice breathed warmly in her ear, I’m Tess, this is Mitch.

Leah.

Glad to know ya, Mitch said. Hed stopped chewing for the introductions, now he was chewing again.

Leah sensed, without turning around, that Tess was perched on the edge of her seat and leaning into the gap between the two front seats as if she couldn’t bear to be left out of anything. Her fingers rubbed up and down on Leah’s upper arm. There was nothing overtly sexual about it: she probably touched everybody. Leah liked it. It was oddly comforting, and she wondered idly if Tess was used to such simple expressions of warmth and friendliness, or was in need of them. Her own upbringing had been loving, but expressed remotely and formally, and she envied Tess’s easy, open sense of comfort with her body and her surroundings.

What have I become? Leah thought. Wary, watchful and ready to run…

She shook off the thoughts. Nice wheels, Mitch.

Yep.

Mitch snapped forward suddenly and stabbed at the radio. There seemed to be six speakers in the car and it filled with sound, Mitch jerking like a robot at the wheel.

Not that crap! Tess shouted. Turn it off!

Leah turned around to grin at Tess, who had flung herself back into the corner, mouth pouting. Tess caught Leah’s gaze and rolled her eyes. She was full of signals and responses, as if her body reflected exactly every thought in her head. It was appealing, and Tess was no doubt accustomed to being seen as cute, but Leah wondered how appealing the cuteness would be after a few days.

She settled deeper into her seat and looked out at the world in the queer half-light of dusk, thinking about Mitch, Tess, and the car. A lot of car for a young guy. A lot of money. You had to wonder where it all came from. There was something hyper about Mitch. Maybe he was on uppers.

The road climbed and the motion of the car would have encouraged sleep if not for the head-banging music. A guard rail slipped by Leah’s window and she looked down into a shallow gully and a creek and weeping willows. There was something manicured about the setting, as though people picnicked there, and Leah guessed there was a town nearby. The shadows were long now.

Then she saw a sign: Prospect 3 km. Theres a town up ahead. If theres a campground or a caravan park Ill

There was a harsh smack of metal against metal and the big car swerved violently. Leah grabbed the dash with both hands. Beside her Mitch was fighting to keep the car stable. Behind them Tess shrieked and ducked low in her seat. Then another thumping sensation and at once the Monaro jerked again and Leah heard the tyre disintegrate and punch around inside the wheel arch.

She peered back through the rear window. A Range Rover was hard on them, slightly off to one side, as if preparing to ram them again. A shotgun was trained on them from the passenger seat. Suddenly Mitch lost control and the Monaro tore itself open along the guard rail for a few metres before hitting a stanchion and plunging through the rail. Mitch sat as if paralysed and Leah grabbed at the wheel in an effort to steer down the bank, feeling a jerk that almost snapped her wrist, and then they were tumbling about inside the car as it rolled.

In the hiss and ticking and awful stillness a minute later, Leah thought fire, and unstrapped her seatbelt. The Monaro was on its side and she couldn’t avoid trampling Mitch as she freed herself. The car groaned and settled at a crazier angle. Mitch was clearly dead, his neck broken. Tess was sobbing. Leah reached through, released the younger womans seatbelt and pulled her into the front before kicking out the windscreen, which peeled away like stiff cardboard. The Monaro protested again. Leah pushed Tess through the gap and slipped out after her, then grabbed her arm to haul her a safe distance from the car. She could smell fuel. She could smell heat rising, seeking the fumes and ignition.

But Tess broke away from her and ran back to the car.

Tess, don’t!

Tess ignored her, ran sobbing for the boot, which had sprung open during the crash. There was a soft whump of superheated petrol. Leah began to dash toward the car, just as Tess recoiled from it and ran back toward her, lugging a leather daypack and a small weekender bag on a strap.

In the lick of the flames then, Leah saw Tess grin, as if she were filled with a lust for life again, her tears forgotten. But beyond her, high above the burning car, the Range Rover was stationary, the driver and passenger watching. Then both men got out and began to ease purposefully through the twisted guardrail and down the slope.

How did they find me? Leah thought, running with Tess at full tilt through the long grass and tricky shadows.