Flesh (Flesh 1)

“Dad put the snatch and grab expeditions on rotation; everyone over eighteen and able to fire a gun takes their turn. Unless someone’s wil ing to cover for you.” Erin tipped her chin at Andy as he resumed work, a worried frown fixed to his face. “He and Owen have been covering for her while she harasses everyone in town. It’s bullshit.”

“Everyone goes out?” Ali asked, a familiar chil sliding beneath her skin. The box in her arms suddenly held the weight of the world.

“Yeah. Actually, can one of you ride out with us tomorrow? We’d really appreciate it,” Erin said. “Ben shot himself in the foot this morning, showing off for some kids. The idiot. We’re lucky he didn’t kil someone. Serves him right that a dental nurse is the closest we have to a doctor. Anyway, talk it over with your men.”

And there wasn’t a single chance of it happening. She already knew how the conversation would go. It wouldn’t be her skin at risk.

The thought of one of them out there …

Ali nodded, clutched at the box before it slipped straight from her numb hands. “They’ve already been given jobs, but I’l be here.

No problem.”

The woman smiled. “Good. We take a decent-sized group, post lookouts. It’s not as dangerous as you’d think.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Daniel woke up not long past dawn with the sheets twisted around him, half a leg hanging off the side of the mattress. Three in the bed made for cozy conditions, but right now, there was just one. Him. Which was curious.

Finn had been raring to get back to the cop shop, which accounted for his absence. But where was his girl? Because all being right in his world, she should have been in bed beside him, all sleepy and warm and ready to be ruffled. But she wasn’t.

“Babe? Ali?” No answer.

The silent apartment felt empty. A bad feeling set in. She might have gone with Finn. Or she might have been next door, sorting supplies, despite their discussion regarding her not wandering off on her own. They barely knew these people; security still mattered.

Daniel vaulted out of bed, pul ed on some cargos and a t-shirt, stuffed his feet into joggers and pounded down the stairs. An overreaction probably, but he’d gotten used to knowing her whereabouts. Her absence jangled his nerves. The world felt wrong, more off-kilter than usual.

Outside, there were people out and about on the street, going about their day. A child shrieked and giggled, chased by an older sibling around one of the huge jacarandas filling the median strip. A tractor started up somewhere close, the engine coughing and spluttering to life.

“Morning,” someone called. Dan nodded back.

He stuck his head into the department store, where a couple of people were gathered around a middle-aged man with a clipboard.

“Hey. Anyone seen Ali this morning?”

They looked at him with blank faces. The guy with the clipboard answered. “No. Sorry. We only just got here.”

“Thanks,” he nodded, backed up.

She had probably gone with Finn. That’s where she was. An ache akin to fear poured through his chest.

He broke into a jog. Down to the end of Main Street, hang a left, feet pounding against the pavement. He covered the half a block and stormed down the station’s front path. His hand hit the heavy glass door, shoved it open.

Finn was bent over the reception desk, looking at papers. Immediately he straightened, hand shifting to the gun at his hip. “What’s wrong?”

“Is she here?”

“No,” Finn frowned, shook his head. “You two were asleep when I left.”

“I woke up alone.”

The pain in his chest accelerated and the front door was thrown open once more. A boy stumbled through the opening, face ashen, dyed black hair sticking out every which way. One of the guards from the gate, if his memory served. Andy.

The young man’s red eyes fixed on Finn, and his thin shoulders caved. “You need to come. It’s Lindsay. She kil ed herself. They found her hanging … just …”

Finn shot Dan a questioning look he could only return. The capable woman who went on raiding parties seemed the least likely person to check out in such a fashion. But these days, who the hell knew anymore?

“Maybe Al’s there with Erin or something,” said Dan.

“Maybe. Let’s go.” Finn headed for the door and the sniffling young man scampered alongside.

A crowd of people milled about outside a tiny weatherboard cottage two streets over. Despite the bright summer day the mood was distinctly dour. People lined the concrete pavement and overflowed into the garden, crushing the lettuce and tomatoes growing there.

Lots of weeping ladies and pale-faced men were present but some kids played a game of footy out in the street, apparently unaffected.

Death happened so often these days that it could be regarded as mundane.

Al didn’t seem to be amongst the gathering, but she couldn’t be far. Stupid of him to worry – grown women could come and go as they pleased. Of course they could, without question and all that. Still, if she didn’t turn up soon he might take a jog around town.

Finn strode up the path and straight into the shadowy house. Daniel followed.

“What’s going on?” Finn asked Santa.

“She was found ‘bout half an hour ago.” The fat man huffed out a breath and frowned, his sunburnt face heavily lined.

More people loitered inside but Al wasn’t among them. The place was packed, and stank of death and decay. Piss and shit and al the things the body secreted at the end of its use. The combination turned his stomach.

Lindsay’s body was laid out on the dining room table with the length of rope beside her. The rope gleamed vibrant orange against the dark wood, the sole bright spot in the room. They’d drawn every curtain but let in half the town. It defied logic. Certainly Finn looked pissed, despite the professional face. His eyes were narrowed, taking everything in.

“You shouldn’t have moved the body.” Finn motioned people back from the table and inspected the dead woman’s bloated, blackened neck.

“We couldn’t leave her hanging out there,” said Santa in an outraged tone.

“Out where?” asked Finn

A chubby hand waved toward the back door, visible through a poky little kitchen. “There’s a little back pergola. She used one of the beams and a kitchen chair.”

“Who found her?” Finn surveyed the crowd.

“I did.” Andy stepped forward with his eyes downturned. No wonder the poor boy was so shaken up. Even after everything he had to have seen to survive this long, suicide would come as a shock.