Into The Dust

 

Kylie breathed a gentle sigh of relief. In the late afternoon sunshine, she lowered herself heavily into her khaki green camp chair, crossing one ankle over the other, comforted by the deep shade her caravan’s stretched awning provided. When she purchased the awning, those years ago, it had been a brilliant white. Now stained with flecks of amber, it wore the red dirt that had been kicked up from the road, cloaking her every possession, including within her nostrils and down the back of her throat.

A shower would really be a treat this afternoon!

Then, catching the thought before reality tumbled in, yes, but that would require 20 litres of water, and I’d need to be on the move again tomorrow to fill up. It would be a ‘bird bath’ again later, just her and her trusty red face washer trying to make as few sudden movements as possible in that cramped shower. It was quite a feat, keeping somewhat clean with both elbows glued to her sides, bending over to a slight hunchback position, washing the essential parts before her forehead tapped the grubby film coating the shower wall. She really did try to keep her van clean, but it was true what they’d told her – red dirt gets in everywhere.

Interrupting her quiet thoughts, she noticed a cloud of dust arising from straight ahead of her position, back along the winding track she had teetered along only an hour ago. Had it really been an hour? Kylie thought, consulting her phone, which served as an elaborate clock in these remote, signal-less regions. 4:30 already.

Well, it’ll be another 10 minutes or so before they get here, whoever they are she considered. Do I move now, try to do a little work before dinner? If they’re going to be chatty, I better get away now.

Her laptop, she knew, would be tucked securely in its position behind the driver’s seat of her car, wrapped securely in its spongy black case, supported by the netting of the seat pocket. The laptop was afforded such protections as it, in turn, served as a dragon guarding the maiden of her second novel. Though unfortunately she mused, feeling sick to her stomach, in this case, the maiden is sick, her eyes hanging out of her head, a type of leprosy decaying layers of her skin, turning her blind and ugly.

Another thought interrupted the first Oh God – what a terrible metaphor. Even my thoughts about the book are shite!

The success of the first book had been stunning, that she would even get published at all a laughable concept, much less sell enough copies to buy a caravan and hit the road in pursuit of the second instalment. Her Mothers voice echoed in her head “well dear, if it doesn’t work out, you can always go back to the hospital”.

Kylie shuddered. After Covid, there was no going back to nursing. Her hands involuntarily trembled at the memory, sensing the energy inside the back of her neck, creeping up into her skull, that would whisper to her all night about what a vile, worthless excuse for a life she was.

 A lifeline had been thrown to her throughout the late nights, silencing the cruel voice as she tapped at her keyboard, pouring her life into the pages until it read as something, miraculously, somebody else wanted to read.

Could lightning strike twice?

Surveying the land, Kylie willed herself back into the present moment, seeing now two puffs of dirt in the distance, one closer than the other, progressing slowly towards her temporary home.

As the sun slowly, almost imperceptibly, dropped in the sky, the familiar magic began to unfold. The light began to twinkle and laugh through the small clusters of leaves on the ends of the towering eucalyptus tree under which she sat. The branches hung over her and her caravan, darker layers of bark melting off towards the ground, revealing fresh, pale skin underneath. A mob of kangaroos appeared from her periphery to her right, nibbling at the grass between their front legs, occasionally pushing themselves forward, balancing on their front paws, to reach the tastiest morsel of fresh grass. With satisfaction, Kylie allowed herself the joys of being immersed in the scene, connected to the land.

Yeah, this is why I’m here. Sydney hasn’t got a patch on this.

As the minutes ticked by, Kylie’s legs felt loaded with concrete, wanting nothing less than to be dragged off to write, and so she convinced herself to stay a little longer, to at least find out who she would be sharing tonight’s patch of earth with.

The first vehicle that became visible, struggling up the unsealed road, was an old Toyota Hiace, splashed up the sides by the clouds of ochre sourced from wherever it had come. The sole female occupant parked and leapt out of the vehicle with a youthful exuberance, giving a cursory wave in Kylie’s direction as she opened the side door of her van and began pulling items out. A well-used camp chair and small table were produced, and before long, the tailgate was opened and a retractable stove pulled out. For the final flourish, magnetic flyscreen curtains were affixed, and a few food items grabbed from inside the van.

As her new neighbour bent to retrieve the items joyfully from inside, Kylie couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy inside her stomach, watching someone so unashamedly enjoy themselves.

A few minutes later, the second cloud became larger, and morphed into a clearly abused old Ute. Even to Kylie’s untrained ears, the mechanics of the beast did not sound good as it slowly clanged up the road. As it came into view, Kylie saw the front bumper crying out to be pushed back into place, and blue paint seeming to flake off before her eyes. As it bounced along the track, the sound of crashing metal rang out from inside the tray, concealed by a battered black cover, exhausted from clinging on.

As the Ute shuddered into the large, open area, it slowly circled around in a curious fashion until ultimately landing next to the young female traveller. Her interest piqued, Kylie strained her eyes to take in the occupant, who licked his teeth in the rear-view mirror before stepping out on the far side of his vehicle.

Urgh she thought, How revolting.

Seemingly unconcerned about setting up, the Ute driver slunk around to where the young woman was cooking dinner, surprising her from behind the far wall of her vehicle. Watching the scene unfold, a familiar flicker of female intuition ran through Kylie’s stomach. Slightly closer in view now, Kylie could make out a face in his late 40s underneath a mud-brown baseball cap, his frame almost skeletal, wrapped in a decrepit rugby t-shirt and too-short stubbies. Something about his gait stirred Kylie’s nerves, he seemed almost to stalk towards the young woman, grinning in a self-satisfied manner.

Maybe they know each other? Kylie hoped.

The duo exchanged some words, the content of which were lost in the breeze, though the simpering male voice and high pitched, hesitant female response reached Kylie’s position. She watched the young woman’s spine grow stiff and her movements become deliberate. Stirring her dish, the young woman took an imperceptibly small step backwards, as the Ute driver placed his hands on the back of her cooking area.

Nope. Definitely don’t know each other.

Kylie’s nerves bundled up into her throat, female intuition turning from a quiet whisper to a loud echo throughout her ribs. Without her permission, her legs and arms began lifting from the chair, stirred by old habits from the hospital.

What are you doing? Her inner voice taunted her, You’ll absolutely make this worse. Stop embarrassing yourself.

“Hello!” Kylie heard herself cry, trotting down from her caravan before her mind could engage any further with her.

* * *

Later that night, Kylie surreptitiously peeked out from behind the caravan shutters. It was dark, in that way that the middle of the outback never quite gets dark, with a full moon overhead and enough stars glittering to light the way to heaven. The kangaroos had vanished. The two campsites were in clear view, Clara tucked up inside her van, Kevin over by his swag, sucking on a rolled cigarette next to his campfire. Clara hadn’t warmed very well to Kylie’s help – though her mildly concerned expression had turned to a smile when Kylie ran over. Kylie wished she had done more, said more, but Kevin had backed off quickly upon her arrival, retreating to his Ute and muttering something about enjoying the serenity of the bush, and listening to the birds.  Clara, for her part, clearly wanted to stay. As Kevin withdrew, she’d told Kylie that she’d been driving all day and couldn’t handle another moment inside the car.

“I’m just keen” she’d said with a rueful smile, “to cook up a quick feed and hit the hay”. Kylie recalled the way Clara’s chin had jutted out, the way her confident voice had returned quickly after the temporary intrusion.

See? The critical voice returned. She didn’t need you. Useless.

As Kylie’s gaze drifted again to Kevin, she noticed he had moved from his position next to the fire and was quietly approaching Clara’s van. At this hour, it was likely he’d thought everyone was asleep.

Oh shit.

Ice began to drip down her spine as she watched Kevin disappear behind the van, and then around the tailgate with something in his hand. As he silently twisted whatever it was at the back of the door, Kylie gasped – the locks!

Heart beating wildly, Kylie’s mind raced. Her inner voice geared itself up to speak, but Kylie interrupted it. No one is coming to help us.

Her eyes frantically searching the inside of her caravan, Kylie’s hands shook as she realised she was desperately unprepared to physically defend herself. Scouring the room, above her fridge, securely strapped to the wall, her eyes finally landed on the tiny fire extinguisher. It would have to do.

Kylie burst outside, wielding her tiny red assistant, yelling “OI! What do you think you’re doing mate?!”

Kevin leapt backwards, dropping his tool, as Kylie moved toward him. His slender frame towered over 6 feet, and as she approached, her stomach sank. In the low light, his eyes appeared black.

What are you going to do with your little fire extinguisher? Kylie heard from within herself.

Adrenaline pulsing through her veins, Kylie’s body kicked into emergency room autopilot and she drew herself up to her full height. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. “I saw you!”

Kevin looked down at Kylie, appearing to size her up, and after a moments pause, he began to laugh. “God, you scared me. What am I doing?” He tilted his head to the side and a smile stretched across his lips. “I told you, I love how quiet it is out here. It’s perfect for hunting”. The menace in his tone bit at every molecule within Kylie, and panic began to cloud her vision.

Has he done this before?

As she began to pant, determination still written over her face, she remembered the clanging noises in the back of his truck. An idea sprang through the haze.

Kylie turned around to the Ute, hoping she was right. As she glanced over, she made eye contact with Clara who was peeking through her curtains, eyes seeming luminous and wild in the dark. Oh thank God. With the slightest flick backward of her head, Kylie indicated her car and caravan, hoping with every fibre of herself that Clara got the message.

Defiantly, Kylie paced over to the Ute, Kevin hot on her heels. “Where are you going with that?” he barked, sending shivers down her spine. Heart still racing, she reached the back of the tray and turned to face him. “I saw you trying to break in,” she declared, “you were going to hurt her, weren’t you?”

To Kylie’s surprise, he came straight out with it “Yes, I was,” he said simply, with a grin and those terrifying eyes. “Where are you going to run to, out here? You stupid little bitch”. Kylie felt the foul spittle hit her cheek with the force of his words. He was now standing directly over her, looking down with his head tilted again, looking at her as a hawk would eye a rabbit.

In her periphery, Kylie saw Clara silently open the passenger side door and begin running to the caravan.

Not waiting another beat, hands trembling, Kylie dislodged the safety bracket of the fire extinguisher and aimed the tube directly into Kevin’s face. As the powder filled his lungs and eyes, he began to cough.

As coughing turned to desperate gasping, Kevin’s knees crumbled underneath him, oxygen struggling to reach his lungs. Kylie flung back the tray cover, and saw among the tools an axe, some power tools, and a long butcher’s knife. Instinctively picking up the axe, she took no delight in being correct about Kevin’s intentions, and ran back to Clara, calling for her to get in the car.

* * *

Sitting quietly next to each other at the Carnarvon Police station, the two women reflected on their brush with potential death. Clara stared blanky ahead, hands folded neatly in her lap, chin still jutting out though her eyes were unfocused. Kylie had been staring at the floor, her hands bracing her on either side. Though the kind policeman had promised they would ‘keep an eye out’ for Kevin, their campsite was over 300km away, so it was likely that he would disappear into the ether.

“Thank you”, Clara suddenly spoke, her voice sounding exhausted, and thick with emotion. “I should’ve listened to my gut.”

Kylie turned to face her younger companion. Her arm twitched, wanting to embrace Clara, but held back. It sounded like she needed to talk. Instead, she said “You’re welcome, love. That was terrifying for both of us. You were so brave.”

Clara’s eyes filled with tears, her words breaking as they escaped “I just wanted to be free, you know? I just wanted to get out there, be one of those solo female travellers. I still do, but it’s so bloody scary sometimes.”

Kylie’s arm got away from her and found itself around Clara’s shoulders. After their long night together, Kylie felt Clara relax in the older woman’s protective embrace. After a few minutes pause, Clara spoke again.

“I guess we’ve got to listen to that inner voice, don’t we?”

Kylie considered this, and noticed that outside the police station, the sun had risen. She inhaled deeply, and nodded.

“Listen to the voice that tells you you’re worth protecting.”

As they stepped outside together, in the cool morning air, a mob of kangaroos bounced away, kicking up a small rust-coloured cloud as they scattered from the noise of the clanging door.