February Page 10

  I threw my backpack into the bushes below, near a few rocks and a small pool. I estimated the drop to be about four metres. I slowly let myself down the wall so that I didn’t have quite as far to fall. I landed hard and broke my fall as best I could, remembering to keep my legs relaxed and soft. I rolled over a few times before picking myself up and grabbing my backpack.

  I took a quick look around and saw nothing but more bushes and the pool. It looked like I’d landed in one of the old, abandoned enclosures.

  Now all I had to do was find my way out of this enclosure, make it to the sundial, meet Jennifer and find out what she had for me.

  I was late, but hopefully not too late.

  Apart from a small grilled door in the wall behind me—and I didn’t want to go in there in case I ran into a keeper—I couldn’t see any way out unless I climbed up the rocky wall opposite me and pulled myself onto the wide footpath of the zoo above. There were people walking back and forth along there, but I was too busy making my way through the scrub to pay much attention to them.

  I had just started climbing the rocks when I heard people calling out from above. This wasn’t what I wanted—to be spotted by a whole bunch of people. I ducked down. People were yelling at me, pointing and shouting, but because they were all shouting together, I couldn’t make out what they were actually saying. I pulled my mobile out and checked the time. I couldn’t waste too much time hiding out down there in the bush. I needed to get to the sundial.

  I could see people pulling out their mobiles and taking photos of me! It would only be a matter of minutes before my identity was blown. Surely they hadn’t recognised me from such a distance? Didn’t they have better things to do? Like looking at the animals?

  Just as I was about to turn all my attention into getting out of there, without a care for who was watching, I saw something that first made my heart drop, then race like hell. Up there on the ground above, in the middle of the shouting crowd and grinning like a hyena, was Sligo’s man, Red Singlet! He must have found someone who’d noticed me getting onto the bus earlier. I searched frantically for another way out.

  It looked like I had only one option—trying my luck with that grilled feeding door I’d seen earlier in the wall.

  The crowd was going crazy, as if I was some sort of wild animal myself. Maybe someone had recognised me, but all I could think of was Red Singlet and how to get away from him and to my meeting. I had to get to that meeting! And I had to shake him somehow!

  It was the tone of fear in the shouts from the crowds that made me finally take notice of what they were trying to tell me.

  Slowly, the words penetrated my mind.

  ‘Look out!’ someone was calling. ‘Kid! Get out of there! For God’s sake get out of there! There’s a—’

  It was the last word I couldn’t quite catch.

  Cautiously, I stood up.

  And that’s when I saw him in front of me, mere metres away.

  I froze and so did he, stopping dead in his tracks, raising his huge head higher to stare at me with merciless yellow eyes—a massive lion, golden brown with a black mane.

  From a long way away came the sounds of the crowd that had gathered on the road above the lion’s den, and then it seemed to fade away. I forgot about Red Singlet and the danger he represented. Every fibre, every cell in my body was concentrating on the huge beast standing before me, black-tufted tail swishing to and fro. The whole world seemed to be reduced to the two of us; that’s all I could see, all I could focus on.

  I felt adrenaline flood me with its icy strength—flight or fight. There was no way I could fight this animal; one thump from those great paws and my bones would be crushed. Flight was the only alternative and yet I knew that the minute I turned and ran, the massive predator would do the same. Four legs can outrun two legs any day.

  Without taking my eyes off the huge beast, my heart beating hard, sweating all over, I started to back away, one foot after the other. I was trying to fix the lion where he was with my gaze, moving only my feet while I carefully retreated. I knew if I tried to climb back over the wall I’d come over, he would pull me down in a matter of seconds. My only hope was making it to the door in the wall behind me. A sound like thunder made me jump and I was shocked at the power of his growl. His tail lashed faster, and he hunkered down, wriggling his hindquarters from side to side just like a cat about to spring at a bird.

  I increased the speed of my retreat. This seemed to activate the lion. He gave a mighty roar and I knew he was about to jump on me.

  I turned and ran to the grilled gate, trying to open it.

  It wouldn’t open!

  From somewhere came the wailing of an alarm siren. That shocked me into realising that I was trying to open the door the wrong way. I wrenched it open! I raced through, but just as I slammed it shut behind me, something crashed against me, hitting my leg!

  The lion’s roar so close to my ear was deafening. I dared to turn round and saw to my horror that the huge beast had crashed right up against the gate. I prayed that it would hold fast under his massive bulk. He dropped down and stood there, glaring at me through the steel mesh, roaring with rage.

  I was in a small holding pen with another door at the other end. I raced through it into a wide corridor, away from the roaring lion. The alarm was deafeningly loud down there. Any moment, the place would be swarming with security. Red Singlet would be hot on my tracks. I had to get away! I was running down the corridor, past empty offices and laboratories, when I myself roared in pain. I looked down and was horrified to see a huge bloodstain seeping through the back of my jeans. Through a rip in the denim, I could see a deep gash, welling with blood. The lion’s claw had got me!

  Now that the shock was wearing off, my leg was becoming excruciatingly painful. I leaned against the wall for a second, feeling helpless and confused. Was it all over? I was trapped, just like the lion I’d faced a moment ago. I didn’t know where to go and there was no-one I could turn to for help. The mobile pictures of me would be identified by now and making their way into TV news reports, police bulletins and news papers. I’d completely screwed up my second meeting. Completely screwed up! But right now, I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. I staggered into an empty room and collapsed into a chair, trembling all over.

  I seemed to be in some sort of storage area; under piles of cartons I could see old sinks with curved taps. Maybe this was one of the laboratories. I caught sight of a box from a pharmaceutical company, and peered at the label. Beneath a lengthy scientific name was a phrase which caught my eye—pre-loaded tranquillising syringes.

  That’s what I needed, I thought bitterly. A tranquilliser.

  But the insistent sound of the alarm brought me to my senses. That wasn’t the answer. I needed to stay alert and vigilant. I needed to stay at least one jump ahead of Sligo and Oriana de la Force. I needed to keep focused on escaping.

  I could hear voices approaching. I lurched over to the counter, picked up the box of syringes and stuffed them in a pocket on my bag. I looked around for some painkillers but found nothing.

  I had to keep moving. And even though I felt like I couldn’t move, I forced myself to keep going. I hoped Jennifer Smith would believe I wanted to see her.

  I started down the corridor, ducking into another empty room when I heard the voices again.

  A guy, a zoo official, started coming after me. I had no choice. Despite the pain in my leg, I made a sudden turn and ran back the way I’d come. Behind me, I heard him swearing and yelling into his two-way radio for reinforcements. Blood squelched in my sneakers as I raced away.

  At the other end of the corridor I found a locked door. Desperately, I looked around for another escape route, ducking into an empty office to the right of the locked door. The windows were also locked and the air conditioning was humming. I picked up a chair and acting on instinct, I brought it down on the window. Hoping to delay my pursuers a little more, I darted to the door of the office, slamming it shut and b
olting it from the inside. Avoiding the shattered glass, I threw my torn hoodie over the jagged edges of the window frame and hauled myself out of the window, dropping to the ground about two metres below. The jolt of the drop to the ground shot agonising pain up through my leg.

  I staggered to my feet and looked around. I had landed on a narrow path between two buildings. Here, the sound from the alarm was a little softer but I knew that the zoo would be crawling with security and, by now, the police.

  The pain really hit me as I ran limping down the narrow path past the other buildings. One of the buildings nearby was a demountable with a narrow verandah at the front where a line of gumboots and workboots stood in an uneven row. Hanging above them were several wet weather jackets and coats. I limped up the two steps. I grabbed one of the dark green keeper jackets and a pair of tall gumboots. I hoped they’d hide the blood that now soaked one leg of my jeans. I pulled my sneakers off and pulled the boots on, wincing as I pushed my injured leg into one of them.

  Awkwardly, I crept to the end of the verandah and peered around the corner of the building.

  I could hear people talking as they headed towards the exit, fragments of conversations about what they’d seen in the lion’s den.

  ‘He can’t have got very far,’ I overheard.

  Another voice answered; ‘I’ve got him on my mobile. Take a look. That’s him there in the grey hoodie.’

  I pulled the dark green jacket closer to me with relief, and shoved my sneakers into my backpack.

  I slipped by groups of officials in khaki shorts and walkie-talkies, and clumped down the path towards the sundial, not even slowing to see if there was anyone there that could have been Jennifer Smith, past family groups with kids in strollers and a school group with their teacher. I was completely driven by fear, pain and the almost hopeless desire to escape unseen.

  As quickly as I could, I hobbled down the path on legs that were shaking, blending in with the crowds who were already streaming towards the exit.

  I hobbled out of the entrance and onto the road within a group of senior kids from a rural school. I pretended to be part of the group, walking close to them, cowering beneath their happy chatter and teasing. No-one challenged me in my dark green jacket, or saw the pain of my leg on my face, although I got some stares because of my oversized gumboots. I kept scanning around for Red Singlet but couldn’t see him.

  My leg was throbbing and every step killed me. Would Jennifer ever trust me again? If I’d been alone, I probably would have fallen to the floor and bawled with pain and frustration.

  Hidden out in some bushland near the zoo, I raised my leg to stop the bleeding, and tried to rest and recover a little before finally wrapping it as best I could with a ripped-up shirt.

  I peered out from my hiding place and saw that police had gathered over by the zoo entrance, which was now cordoned off with tape.

  At least I was on this side of the tape.

  I had no choice but to suck up the pain, look as above suspicion as possible, and join the short queue of people waiting for the last bus back to the city.

  The rumbling of a helicopter thundered through the sky as the bus pulled away from the zoo, freeing me, for now, from capture.

  I quickly filled out a form, with a fake name, of course. Tom—for my dad, and Mitchell—the name of the first dog we had when I was little.

  Maybe I was stupid to think that I could walk off the street and into a public hospital, but I felt far enough away from the attack at the zoo to be safe. Safe enough.

  Or maybe it was because I’d lost a lot of blood and was light-headed. Too light-headed to think properly?

  The bleeding had finally eased when I was called shortly after signing in by a doctor whose jeans I could see under the short white jacket she was wearing.

  I sat up on one of the examination tables, while she cleaned out my wound, and gave me a shot of painkiller and stitched the injury. I noticed how she kept looking at the wound and frowning.

  She went about her work in silence until it came time to give me another injection.

  ‘Tell me again,’ she said, ‘about the big black dog.’

  ‘Is that for rabies?’ I asked wincing at the sting.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘There’s no rabies in Australia at the moment but animal bites can turn septic. Anyway, don’t worry about that, just tell me more about that dog.’

  I repeated my story of the big black dog. Except this time I made the story a bit more interesting adding in a soccer ball I was kicking.

  ‘You were kicking a soccer ball in those gumboots?’

  ‘Stupid, hey?’ I replied. So stupid … Surely I could have come up with a more believable story.

  She secured the bandages with a clip and straightened up. ‘You’ll need to keep this dry. No baths or showers for the next three days.’

  I assured her that wouldn’t be a problem.

  ‘These bandages will need changing in a day or two. I’ll give you a letter for your GP.’

  I nodded as she wrote up the GP’s letter. Through the open doorway I saw a doctor on a phone, looking around quite tensely. He gestured to someone, and before I knew it, hospital security had approached him. The police must have contacted them about me. I had to get out.

  I stood up to leave as the doctor called me back.

  ‘Tom,’ she said, and I almost didn’t respond at the unfamiliar name. ‘I worked in Kenya for Médecins sans Frontières. I’ve seen those injuries before. That’s not a dog’s bite. Only the claws of a big cat make marks like that.’

  ‘It wasn’t a cat, it was a dog.’

  ‘I’m not talking domestic cat.’

  There was a silence while we stared at each other.

  ‘Gotta go. Thanks,’ I said, hurrying out of casualty and right past the doctor that had been talking to security.

  I wandered around aimlessly in the dark, far from the hospital, my body aching with loneliness. It was more painful than my stitched-up leg. I thought again of the lion and his massive eyes, the way they stared coldly into mine … before he reached out and tore my leg open.

  I saw something in those eyes that made me uneasy. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would eventually crack and live up to the ‘psycho kid’ tag I’d been given. I was afraid that being trapped and isolated could do it. Maybe sooner rather than later.

  I noticed a public phone across the street and was instantly drawn to it. I hobbled over to it and dialled Rafe’s number. I couldn’t use my mobile for fear of being traced.

  ‘Hello?’ came Rafe’s voice down the crackly line.

  I thought of him on the other end, with my dad’s face.

  ‘Who is this?’ he said. ‘Is that you, Cal?’ he asked, his voice quickly warming. ‘Look son, please come home. Your mother needs you. We all need you.’ He paused for a moment, waiting for me to say something, but I just couldn’t.

  ‘Are you still there?’ he asked again. ‘Say something, please?’

  ‘Hi,’ I finally whispered. It was all I could muster.

  ‘Cal! You’re OK! Please come home.’

  ‘Cal?’ he said again after a long silence.

  ‘Who is it?’ I heard Mum ask Rafe softly in the background.

  But I’d hung up before anyone had a chance to say anything more.

  There was no way I’d hear from Jennifer again, I convinced myself. I’d been hoping she’d call me, ever since I left the zoo. Give me a chance to explain myself. Arrange to meet somewhere else, tonight. But who was I kidding? If she was going to call she would have done it by now. I’d have to go back to St Johns and rest up.

  My mobile rang just as I’d given up on Jennifer Smith. I hoped it would be her. Or Boges.

  ‘Cal, it’s me. I have to see you.’

  It was Winter. I imagined her with her dark, floaty hair and wondered where she was calling from.

  ‘Hi,’ I said, my image of her dark, floaty hair quickly transforming into the image of her creeping around Sligo’s
car yard, stealing car parts. Was she fooling me, like she was fooling Sligo? Somehow, even in my uncertainty, my miserable mood lessened at the sound of her voice.

  ‘I was thinking we could meet up at the Hibiscus Café. It’s open pretty late. We could have a quick chat and a smoothie or something?’

  ‘You know my situation,’ I said, not wanting to say too much on the phone, ‘money-wise.’

  ‘Listen,’ she said, ‘You supply the company. I’ll supply the cash. OK?’ Then she giggled. ‘That’s not quite true. Sligo will supply the cash—although he doesn’t know it.’

  I smiled on hearing her giggle, but stopped myself.

  ‘I saw you,’ I blurted out, ‘when you were in Sligo’s car yard. You were crawling around looking into the cars and under the tarpaulins.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The car yard. The other day. I came to look for you, and I saw you there sneaking around.’

  ‘You’re wrong, Cal,’ she said. ‘Why would I have to sneak around Sligo’s?’

  Forget the cute giggle, I told myself. Remember Sligo. This girl hangs round with Sligo. This girl tells lies.

  ‘Anyway,’ she continued, back to her earlier, friendly tone. ‘There’s something I need to talk to you about. Something really important. Something very dangerous.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’ll tell you when I see you. Where are you now?’

  ‘I’m not that far from the Hibiscus Café. I’m just outside the—’ I stopped. What the hell was I doing? Telling Winter Frey where I was? For all I knew, Red Singlet might have been standing right beside her, taking down notes.

  ‘Never mind,’ I said, thinking fast. I did want to see her. But I’d have to arrange some place to meet where I could set myself up earlier—somewhere I could check out her arrival, and see whether she’d come alone. Or not.