The Devil Of Oz Page 5

  Chapter Three

  Hearing his footsteps crunching on the gravel Annabelle’s head shot up. Scooting sideways she cursed as her heel snagged, throwing her off balance. Slapping her hand down on the hot metal to balance herself she looked down and her heart raced as she saw what she’d trod on – a stick. But this was no pissy, flimsy little twig. It was at least the size of her wrist and chancing a quick glance at him, she bent and picked it up.

  Around her the sounds of the bush muted as if by magic. The repetitive drone of the cicadas faded and the cackling maniacal laugh of the kookaburras disappeared. She felt the rough bark of the branch and the tickling of ants as they crawled onto her skin. Ignoring them she focused on him. Her vision had become sharper, clearer , as if she was looking down a well-lit tunnel. She saw the faint tinge of dark growth that shadowed his jawline and the long black lashes that moved up and down as he blinked.

  With her breaths coming in short little stabs she held the stick out before her; her wooden Excalibur. It felt almost as good as if it was the real deal. And it was weighty, which gave her the courage she needed to spin the wheel of this bizarre merry-go-round -- that she’d found herself riding on – back in her favour.

  “Don’t you dare take another fucking step,” she cried, and in her ears her voice sounded shrill, bordering on hysterical. Waving her makeshift weapon, she swiped her hand across her forehead babbling, “Why did I ever pull in here? If I hadn’t have stopped I could have been there by now, safe.” As her eyes welled the stick wobbled and then drooped. With a tiny moan she quickly placed her other hand on it, steadying it.

  He halted and without taking his gaze from her he placed his hand on the roof and traced lazy circles in the red dust. Sighing deeply he snapped his fingers and murmured indistinctly.

  Instantly Annabelle froze and her lovely features softened as the hard lines of stress and fright vanished. Her fingers went limp and the stick fell harmlessly to the ground at her feet. His tongue skated over his bottom lip as he watched her eyelids flicker and slowly close, the dark lashes fanning out on her cheeks.

  As he walked up to her he swallowed noisily, all of a sudden nervous. He felt like a gawky adolescent on his first date. His chest constricted as an invisible band tightened and deep in his loins he felt an uncomfortable shifting as fire raced through his veins igniting feelings he’d thought long extinct. It had seemed an eternity since he’d felt like this and he wasn’t sure how to react to his body’s natural responses to this glorious and familiar woman.

  In two long strides he rounded the front of the car and stood next to her. He smelt her scent, the perfume of fear mixed with something else – desire. Lifting his hand, he ran his fingers through her hair, his breath catching in his throat as the silky dark strands slipped like water between his long fingers .

  She didn’t move, and glancing down he watched her breasts rise and fall with the rhythm of her breaths. Placing his hands on her shoulders he spun her around to face him and without hesitation he wrapped his arms about her. Burying his nose in her hair he inhaled deeply, sighing with longing. Above him the crows cawed and flapped their wings in agitation.

  “I know, I know. Just allow me this five minutes ,” he hissed at his feathered lookouts. Running his hand up and down the length of her back he whispered in her ear, “It’s too soon my precious. I’m so sorry for frightening you, that was not my intention. You are not ready just yet to remember me. Us.”

  He closed his eyes and his hands gripped her tighter. “I could make you but that would be cheating, and despite my underserved reputation, I’m a man of honour.” Glancing at the sky, he scowled as frothy thunderheads gathered. As he stared, flickers of lightning pierced their centres, turning the white a hot-pink. He cursed softly. “It appears that I’m out of my allotted time. Fuck these infernal rules and regulations.”

  A long, bass vibrato growl ripped through the air, and he heard the dunny’s corrugate-armour creak with its intensity. Narrowing his eyes at the obvious message he was being given, he tensed and from deep in his chest a vicious snarl bubbled up. Ignoring it for the moment he spread his legs until he was on a level with Annabelle, and closing his eyes he nuzzled her neck.

  “Ah, you smell so sweet. My blood burns for you. Alas, I allowed my impatience to overrule my customary good sense and caution. Never mind, we’ll meet again soon, and in a place where I hold the balance of power. Sleep now my dear and remember me only as a dream.” Drawing away he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers before making his way over to the tree.

  Looking up at the crows he ordered, “Stay and watch her. Come to me when she leaves.” With a last lingering look at Annabelle, he stepped through the shimmering door which now yawned widely in the eucalypt’s broad trunk and disappeared from sight. The door shrank and then closed with a pop, leaving behind skewbald coloured bark which once again played host to the hordes of scurrying insect traffic.

  Annabelle yawned and stretched, her hand grazing the car’s interior roof. Opening her eyes she yawned again and looked across the seat at Percival who lay curled up and staring at her, purring contentedly.

  She smiled at him before drawing her brows together and glancing quickly out of the window. It was late afternoon, the sun had snuck across the sky as she’d slept and now hovered like a Cyclops’s golden-eye over the horizon.

  Quickly scanning for any hint of the stranger she laughed at her silly fancies and opening the door she stepped out. The breeze had stilled and the air was hot and dry, thick with the sweet smell of the eucalyptus’s blossoms and the faint tinge of sour urine from the roos which grazed nearby.

  Tilting her head to the side she placed her hand to her forehead. Where had the chair and thermos gone? She was so sure that she’d gotten them out when she’d pulled in earlier. Frowning she reached for her cigarettes.

  Tipping her head back she inhaled deeply; as if her life depended on the chemical magic contained in the smoldering, white wand. Parting her lips she exhaled on a sigh as she felt its addictive, wicked influence hitchhike its way through her bloodstream, calming and soothing.

  Leaning against the open door she remembered the handsome leading man of her dream. Lucifer, he’d called himself. She closed her eyes briefly, it had been so vivid.

  The sun flirted with the distant mountain range and she hugged herself, as her eyes rapidly scanned the darkening bushland. She spun around, her mouth drying up as the snap of twigs and rustling leaf litter reached her ears. And then a silence descended on her. It was so complete, it was if she’d been placed inside one of those glass-globes, cut off from the normal noises of life.

  The fine hairs on her arms and legs rose and she shivered as she remembered hearing stories about the huge boars which roamed the bush. But if she was honest, her quivers were not from the thought of being chased by a feral pig or even the chill which had arrived with the twilight; after her weird dream it was just too quiet and this was what was spooking her.

  She was a city girl used to the constant noise of urban life. Not this deafening silence, it was unnerving and her scalp prickled in alarm. She didn’t know what was hiding out there in the dark, watching her. The shadows deepened, and dropping her butt she ground it out before climbing back into the car with a sigh of relief. Starting it she engaged the central-lock and with a last look about, she drove off.

  As the taillights winked like two red eyes and then faded into the distance, the crows rose up into the evening sky and headed for home.

  “I had the strangest dream Percival,” she said. In the womb-like silence of the car, his purrs were comforting and she found herself relaxing. Her heart slowed down to its normal pace and the fluttery feeling in her stomach disappeared. “I’m glad to put that creepy place behind us, it gave me the heebie-jeebies.”

  The ginger tom meowed. Blinking, he stood and arched his back before helping himself to his stash of ‘Munch ‘N’ Crunch’ the only cat food Annabelle bought that he deigned to eat
.

  Annabelle’s lip tilted up in a smile at the crackling sound. Leaning over she stroked his fur through the bars of the cheap carry-cage. He stood and rubbed against her fingers before giving his attention back to his snack.

  “Glad to see you haven’t lost your appetite.”

  Her stomach squiggled and growled, and in her throat rose the old familiar burning; she always got an attack of indigestion if she went too long between meals. In an attempt to smother the flames, she opened the console and plunging her hand in she grabbed an apple from a small cache that she’d put there this morning.

  It was warm and a tad overripe with the day’s heat, but she was hungry and as her mouth watered up she bit into it, relishing the slightly tart aftertaste. After eating in silence she wound down the window and feeling like a criminal – which by rights she was – she tossed the spent core out into the darkness. Glancing across at her cat, she noticed his wide eyes glowing a bright amber in the reflection of her dash lights and she pressed a finger to her lips.

  “Ssh! If you don’t tell, I’ll never repeat to another living soul that you shat on my rug. Deal Percival?” She laughed. “Not long to go now my furry-friend and then you can leave your temporary accommodations and stretch all of your four legs. You’d like that wouldn’t you? I’d say another couple of hours should do it.”

  The car’s headlights cast eerie shadows over the spinifex as she drove deeper into the night. Glittering eyes caught the car’s beams and disappeared into the darkness at the shoulder of the road before she could get a glimpse of their owners. Finally she spotted the luminous white and green glare of a sign coming up on her right.

  As she watched it getting closer she recalled the scant instructions she’d received over the phone. They’d mentioned taking the first turn on her right, just after she’d passed the turnoff to ‘Miller’s Farm.’

  She huffed. “That turnoff was at least one hour ago. These people have a funny idea of what

  ‘Just past the turnoff’ means.”

  Shifting down through the gears she pulled up in the middle of the road. There was no problem with holding up traffic -- there was none -- she’d seen all of two cars since she’d left the city behind. Glancing at the electronic clock on her dashboard, she raised her brows when she saw it was now 10.45pm.

  “No wonder I feel like shit,” she barked.

  Placing her arms behind her head, she arched her back, stretching as best she could in the confined space. Rubbing her tired eyes she left the car idling in neutral and getting out she walked up to the sign. Night bugs and giant moths swarmed around her, attracted to the light and she swiped at them.

  “Urgh!”

  She shuddered, she’d always hated creepy-crawlies, flying or sneaking around on the ground, they were all as bad as each other. Raising her eyes to the sign she read it aloud, her voice slicing through the silence.

  “Sinner’s Road. Dis 5km.” She folded her arms and raised a brow. “What the hell kind of name for a property is Dis? And who in their right mind would call a road Sinner’s Road? Oh well, that’s not my concern.” She shrugged and a moth flew into her hair. Panicking she flicked wildly at it as two glowing eyes watched from the cover of a scrubby bush. Satisfied that the winged intruder had been dislodged she yawned loudly. “Holy hell, I’m so tired. I need a coffee and a good night’s sleep.”

  Swatting away the clouds of inquisitive insects she climbed back into her car, slipped it into gear, and turning right she vanished down Sinner’s Road.

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