Gunshine State Read online

  Irina reappeared behind Rocky, raised the Beretta in both hands and aimed it at the back of Rocky’s head.

  Rocky turned around and said something but the words were drowned out by the gunshot. Irina kept firing, Rocky’s body jumping at the impact. The smoke burned Chance’s nostrils.

  Glassy eyed, she swivelled slightly and aimed the gun at Chance.

  ‘Irina, what are you doing?’ Chance could hear the panic in his voice.

  She squeezed the trigger. Chance raised his arms in a futile gesture to shield his face, but the hammer clicked on an empty chamber. Chance heard the hollow metallic click several times until Irina slowly lowered the pistol and dropped it on the floor.

  She bent down, took a key from Rocky’s trouser pocket, and unlocked the handcuff on Chance’s ankle.

  ‘There’s bandages in the cabinet,’ said Irina, looking almost absentmindedly around the blood-spattered bathroom. ‘I have to clean up this mess.’

  She was dousing the kitchen with petrol from a can when Chance emerged from the bathroom, his hand wrapped in bandages. He’d also swallowed several prescription painkillers he’d found in a bottle.

  He’d just finished dressing when he heard the sound of a revving engine. Irina sat in the front seat of a large four-wheel-drive ute, still in her pink dressing gown, eyes straight ahead. Chance climbed in next to her. She took off without a word, the first tongues of flame rising from the house, visible in the rearview mirror.

  NINE

  Chance was almost asleep when he heard noise outside his window. He rolled out of bed, reached for his jeans and T-shirt. He slid his feet into his runners, didn’t bother with the laces, went to the kitchen, retrieved the shotgun from the cupboard above the sink. He cracked the breach, checked it was loaded, slowly snapped it shut.

  A single cotton sheet covered Kate’s sleeping body. Her chest rose and fell in time with her breath. Chance set the shotgun on the floor next to her, leaned in close, put a hand over her mouth.

  She woke with a start, eyes wide in the darkness. He held her down, hot breath on the palm of his hand.

  ‘Shush, it’s only me.’

  She recognised him, relaxed. He took his hand away.

  ‘Listen to me very carefully. Someone’s moving around outside the cabin. It might be one of the residents, but I don’t think so. Get out of bed, put your clothes on, the rest in a bag along with whatever money is left. Stay here. Do not come out of the room until I say. Understood?’

  She gave him a precise nod.

  Chance went back into his room, tore away the thin material covering his window, removed the screen, and climbed out. He crept around the side of the cabin, looked around the corner. A figure stood next to the chair he had been sitting in that afternoon.

  Chance peered hard into the darkness around the cabin, expected to see other shapes moving about, saw no one. The police or Gao’s people would have come in greater numbers. Chance stepped out, the shotgun held waist level. ‘Put your hands above your head, lace your fingers together, don’t move.’

  The man did as he was told. He was tall, his face hidden in the shadow cast by a hat on his head.

  ‘Front door’s open.’ Chance gestured at the front screen door with his weapon. ‘Go inside, stand in the middle of the room. Don’t try anything. I’ll be right behind you.’

  Chance stood in the doorway. He held the gun in one hand, felt for the light switch on the wall with the other. The exposed fluorescent tube flickered, came to life.

  Chance tightened his grip on the shotgun, tried not to show his surprise. ‘What happened? You get lost?

  ‘I could say the same about you, son,’ Tavener replied in a relaxed drawl.

  ‘You can come out, Kate,’ said Chance. ‘Or maybe I should say Amber.’

  The plastic accordion door to Kate’s bedroom slid open and she stepped out, dressed in the clothes she’d had on earlier, leaned against the door frame.

  ‘Evening, miss,’ Tavener said without looking around.

  Kate walked across the room, stood next to Chance. Her mouth formed into a silent ‘O’ as she recognised the man in front of them, his hands still laced on his head. Tavener wore a grubby white polo shirt under a sleeveless vest jacket, baggy khaki pants, a beige canvas fishing cap on his head.

  ‘I hate to disappoint you, but if you’ve come for the drugs or the money, we don’t have either,’ said Chance.

  ‘I know, son.’

  ‘You know? Is this some sort of game?’

  Tavener unlaced his fingers, raised his hands above his head. ‘Okay if I put my hands down?’

  Chance kept the shotgun levelled on Tavener’s midsection, nodded.

  Tavener rubbed his wrists as he spoke. ‘Listen to me, this is a real nice little get together, but unless you want to continue our discussion in police custody, I’d suggest we get moving.’

  Chance and Kate exchanged glances.

  ‘I can understand you have a lot of questions.’ Irritation crept into the American’s voice. ‘You’re thinking, what’s he want, who’s he working for, is it a trap, that kind of thing. If I wanted you both dead, you’d be dead. Believe me. Ain’t working for Gao’s old man or your former partners, either.’

  ‘How do we know you’re telling the truth?’ said Kate.

  ‘You’re just going to have to trust me.’

  ‘Trust’s one thing I’m running pretty low on at the moment.’

  ‘Be that as it may, for now it’ll have to do.’

  ‘We’ve got this far,’ said Chance. ‘Why shouldn’t we just kill you now and keep going?’

  ‘You haven’t done too bad a job hiding your tracks, but the police have found you. You wouldn’t get more than a few kilometres before you got caught.’

  ‘What are you proposing?’

  ‘I’ve got a car waiting on a track on the other side of the forest. Let’s take a drive, visit the Asian fella who’s helping you out, see if we can’t discuss ourselves all a new arrangement.’

  ‘How long until the police arrive?

  Tavener smiled as all three of them heard the noise, the slow crunch of car tires on gravel, far away, but getting closer.

  ‘About sixty seconds.’

  Chance tried to read Tavener’s face, got nothing.

  ‘Okay, but remember, I’ve got the shotgun.’

  ‘That antique? You’ll be doing well if you don’t trip and blow your head off.’ Tavener unzipped the nylon money pouch strapped around his waist, took out a blunt-looking black pistol with a square barrel. ‘This place got a rear exit?’

  The sound of cars grew louder.

  Chance bundled the two of them ahead of him into his bedroom, pointed at the open window. Kate was first out, followed by Chance. Tavener landed on the grass next to them, headed for the cyclone wire separating the caravan park from the forest, waved at them to follow.

  When Tavener reached the fence, he turned, ran alongside it for a hundred metres, stopped. A square hole had been cut in the wire, big enough for an adult to climb through.

  Chance heard a vehicle come to a stop, car doors slam, people move about inside the cabin, swearing. Tavener stood next to the hole, his pistol aimed in the direction of the noise, as Chance and Kate climbed through.

  Almost immediately they were engulfed in thick undergrowth. They waited for Tavener, followed him as he ducked and weaved around the crooked trees.

  Chance heard a grunt behind him, turned, saw Kate had fallen. He doubled back, reached out. Her strong fingers entwined in his and he pulled her up. They stood still for a moment, faces inches away from each other, as shafts of torchlight appeared in the forest behind them. Chance counted three, maybe four.

  He ran, pulled Kate after him. He tried to locate Tavener in the shadows as they moved. They reached an incline that started gentle, became steep. They paused halfway up, panting for breath. Chance swivelled his head from side to side, still no sign of Tavener. Torch beams probed the forest at the base of the
incline. Above them a line of trees was silhouetted against the night sky.

  Chance tried to steady himself on the angle, leaned against an overhanging branch. The dry wood snapped, broke off. Kate gripped his shoulder to stop him tumbling after it, the shotgun fell to the ground, went off. The boom reverberated through the trees like a canon.

  ‘Over there,’ yelled a male voice. More shouts. The torch beams changed direction, came toward them.

  Chance and Kate raced the remaining distance up the hill, half ran, half stumbled down into a shallow valley, ignoring the branches that scraped and tore at their clothes and exposed skin. The torch beams kept up their pursuit.

  ‘Where the hell is Tavener?’ hissed Chance.

  ‘Maybe it’s a trap.’

  Chance had been thinking the same thing. The lights reached the top of the valley, moved down, gaining on them.

  Nearby lay the outline of the trunk of a large fallen tree. They wedged themselves under it. Kate nuzzled against his shoulder, her hair smelled of strawberries amid the dirt and moss. They watched two pairs of men’s legs come into view and stop, followed by a slimmer pair in calf-high boots, a woman’s.

  ‘I swear they were over here,’ said a rough-sounding male voice. The other man laughed.

  ‘Shut up and just keep looking,’ snapped the woman.

  ‘It’s not just Chance and the woman we’ve lost, where’s Viljoen?’ said the other man.

  Chance and Kate lay completely still.

  ‘Probably trying out some of those famous Boer tracking skills he’s always boasting about,’ replied the rough voice.

  ‘Jesus Christ, will both of you just shut up. They’ve got to be close by.’ The woman moved away from the log. The men followed.

  Chance and Kate exhaled, waited for a few more minutes until they were sure it was safe to get up.

  ‘Over here.’ The heavily accented voice came from behind them. They turned, immediately found themselves looking into strong torchlight. ‘Both of you, don’t move—’

  Chance heard a thud. The torchlight fell from their faces, rolled on the ground, illuminating a thin slither of forest floor.

  Tavener appeared over the crumpled figure, bent over, grunted as he scooped up the unconscious form, threw him over his shoulder. ‘This way,’ he wheezed.

  They climbed up the side of the valley, edged down sideways, crab-like. The incline straightened out several metres from the dirt track. Chance saw the outline of a vehicle, ran toward it. Tavener opened the boot, heaved the body over his shoulder into it. He leaned in, delivered two solid blows to make sure the man stayed unconscious, closed the boot.

  Tavener pushed Chance and Kate into the car ahead of him, climbed into the driver’s side, started the engine and released the brake. He slammed his foot on the accelerator and the car took off.

  TEN

  Chance turned the old-fashioned twist bell several times, heard a faint ringing on the other side. A soft light illuminated the pane of frosted glass, the door opened.

  Dao Ming stood in the entrance in a blue dressing gown, regarded Chance and Kate with a mixture of anger and suspicion. She inclined her head to their car parked in the street in front of the house, where a man she didn’t know was retrieving something from the boot.

  ‘I need to talk to your father.’ Chance pushed past the young woman, headed down the hallway.

  ‘You were told not to come here under any circumstances,’ she said after him.

  The old man stood in the middle of the lounge room. He wore a chequered wool dressing gown over striped pyjamas, slippers. He reached into one of the pockets of the gown, produced a packet of cigarettes and a lighter.

  ‘Sorry for the intrusion,’ Chance said. ‘Tell your father we need to renegotiate the terms of our agreement.’

  The old man nodded as his daughter translated, said something back.

  ‘He wants to know what you mean.’

  Tavener entered the room, the unconscious man over his shoulder, poured him onto one of the armchairs.

  ‘This is what I mean,’ said Chance.

  Dao Ming gasped at the sight of the wounded man. The hardness fled from her face, left it childlike and frightened. She put her hand over her mouth and reached for her father.

  Chance studied the unconscious man. He was medium-sized, well built, not unlike himself, clad in hiking boots, jeans and blue T-shirt under a black zip-up jacket. Blood oozed from a gash on the side of his head, and there was a large purple bruise on his face where Tavener had punched him in the boot of the car.

  ‘Any chance I could get a cup of Good Morning America?’ Tavener looked around expectantly.

  ‘Who are these men?’ Dao Ming said in an effort to regain control of the proceedings.

  ‘Guess not.’ Tavener threw a set of car keys to Kate. ‘Miss, if you’d be so kind as to move my car so it’s off the street.’

  Without waiting for a reply, he frisked the unconscious man. He pulled a phone from one of the man’s pockets, removed the SIM card and threw the phone against the wall. It shattered and fell in pieces to the floor. Dao Ming jumped at the sound, tightened the grip on her father. Tavener twisted the man’s body, removed a wallet from his back pocket. He withdrew a wad of money, slipped the notes into one of his own pockets.

  Long lit a cigarette, nodded, as if he’d reached a decision, spoke softly to his daughter. She started to argue but the old man silenced her with a single word. ‘It seems that things have indeed changed,’ said Long in English.

  Chance did a double take. ‘I thought you didn’t speak English.’

  ‘I never said I couldn’t speak your language. I just choose not to. This is a small town and I am a foreigner. It seemed easier if people thought I could not understand them.’ He stroked Dao Ming’s hair. ‘This is not something my daughter needs to see. Dao Ming, go to the kitchen.

  ‘You can introduce me to your American friend later.’ Long cocked an eyebrow at the unconscious man. ‘For now, I’m more interested to know who he is.’

  ‘Say hello to Matthias Viljoen, homicide detective with the Queensland police.’ Tavener slid something out of one of the folds of the Viljoen’s wallet, handed them to Chance. ‘No prizes for guessing who he was looking for.’

  The photograph must have been from his army file. Chance, ten years younger, the blank stare and crew cut. There was a second photograph, a barely recognisable security camera image of Kate.

  Viljoen groaned, moved his head slightly.

  ‘Shall we see what our police friend knows?’ Tavener grabbed a white Chinese teapot from a side table, poured the contents on the unconscious man’s face. ‘Wakey, wakey, Matthias.’

  Viljoen coughed, his eyelids fluttered, opened. He glanced around the unfamiliar surroundings, his eyes narrowing as he registered Chance’s presence.

  Tavener waved the man’s police ID card in the air in front of his face. ‘Bit out of your jurisdiction, aren’t you, Matthias?’

  ‘Fuck you,’ spat Viljoen in a thick South African accent.

  Tavener smiled, slapped him across the face. Viljoen flinched. Tavener slapped him again.

  ‘I know you. You’re the American Gao bought with him.’

  Tavener nodded grimly, slapped the South African several more times. ‘Why have you come all this way, why didn’t you use the local boys?’

  Viljoen’s wiped wet tea leafs from his face, said nothing

  Tavener pursed his lips, like he was dealing with a recalcitrant child. Without warning he grabbed the man by the hair, pulled his head back and punched him. The South African’s head bounced off the lounge chair’s headrest and back up again. He dabbed at his split lip, saw blood on his fingers, flashed Tavener a venomous look.

  ‘Costello told us to locate them and the heroin before anyone else did.’

  ‘Costello?’ Chance looked from Tavener to Long.

  Tavener raised a hand to silence Chance. ‘Costello thinks this man here has his drugs?’

&nbs
p; Viljoen nodded quickly.

  ‘How did he find us?’ said Chance.

  Tavener nudged the South African with the toe of his sand shoe. ‘Don’t be rude, answer the man.’

  ‘We divided up a few days ago to cover more territory. I was checking Yass, saw Gao’s whore in town this morning.’ Viljoen spat a ball of bloody saliva out of the side of his mouth. ‘I followed her to the caravan park, called the others, waited until they arrived.’

  Chance cursed under his breath. ‘Who’s Costello and what the hell’s going on?’

  ‘I was going to ask the same thing.’ Kate stood in the doorway, twirled the car keys off a finger, her face set at a determined angle.

  ‘How long have you been standing there?’ said Chance.

  ‘Long enough.’ She threw the keys to Tavener. ‘Car’s parked in an alley a block away.’

  ‘Miss, this could get ugly,’ said Tavener. ‘You might want to go, wait in the kitchen with the old man’s daughter.’

  ‘Newsflash,’ Kate snarled. ‘It already is ugly.’

  Chance took a step toward her. ‘Kate, come on—’

  ‘No, I’m sick of being treated like some fucking extra in a boy’s only adventure. So I fucked up going into town to get the CD player. But if it wasn’t for me you’d probably be dead or in custody, you said so yourself.’

  ‘I don’t want you to get involved any more…’ Chance realised how stupid the words sounded, stopped himself.

  ‘Than what, I already am?’ Her large blue eyes bored into him. ‘I was part of that cluster fuck in Surfers Paradise, drove you all the way here. I bought you heroin for your pain, been hanging out with you in that shithole caravan park while you get your health together. Yeah, I’d say I’m pretty fucking involved. I want to know what’s going on. Everything.’

  Chance nodded wearily.

  ‘So who’s going to be kind enough to fill me in?’ Her eyes swept the room. ‘Tavener, the old man who is not supposed to speak English but does, the guy in the seat? I don’t care who talks as long as someone does.’