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What was that noise? Wazza lifted his head, puzzled. Kee was still sitting in the cabin, but it didn’t seem like she’d heard. He was just about to tune back into the droning old man’s monologue when the noise came again.
A muffled scream.
Benni.
He took two strides to the front of the car and peered down the line. Benni was no longer in the front seat of the red truck. Dolly was just visible in the passenger seat. Where was she? And why had she left Dolly? She would never leave Dolly behind.
“Benni,” he exclaimed.
Kee looked at him through the windshield, a question in her eyes.
“Benni,” he called again, taking a step toward the other car. A sliver of movement caught his eye, down in the long grass between the house and the river.
The figure of a man holding a struggling child appeared briefly from behind the trunk of an old peppermint tree. It was only a split second, but it was enough.
Oh. Fuck.
Bruno.
It had to be him. He recognized the hulking shape of his shoulders and that regimental short hair.
“Kee. Bruno’s got Benni,” he yelled, breaking into a run. “Put her down, you fucker. You leave her alone.” The other man was a good hundred meters away, close to the edge of the river. “Benni, hang on, I’m coming.” His breath pounded in his chest as his long legs ate up the distance between them. He heard Kee’s cry of anguish behind him, but he had no time to turn and wait for her.
The man let out a sudden yell, and dropped Benni. She took off like a startled rabbit, running fast toward the river.
“This way,” he shouted. “Come to me, Benni.” She was going the wrong way. If she ran toward him, he could save her. But she either didn’t hear him, or was too spooked to obey. He kept running, trying to close the distance, he was now at the edge of the gravel carpark and lunged into the long grass, heedless of snakes or the large spider webs he ran through.
Bruno had taken off after Benni, swearing at the top of his lungs, which was only scaring her more. She headed straight for the little jetty that protruded into the river, then her feet were pounding down the wooden planks toward the pontoon. Where was she going? Didn’t she realize it was a dead end? He put on another spurt of speed, but there was no way he was going to catch Bruno; he had too much of a head start. Bruno’s heavy boots thumped onto the end of the jetty. The big man slowed to a jog, as if he knew Benni had nowhere else to go.
Wazza decided that if Benni had nowhere to go, then neither did Bruno. Perhaps it was a good thing, after all.
Suddenly Kee latched onto his hand, dragging him back, stopping his forward movement.
“We have to get to her,” she screeched. “We can’t let him get away. I’ll never see her again.”
“I know. It’ll be okay.” He took her by the hand and together they jogged toward the jetty.
Bruno was crooning to Benni. “Come here, lovely. It’s okay. You remember me, your Uncle Bruno?”
“Get away from me,” Benni screamed. She’d reached the floating pontoon at the end and looked up and down the river, searching for an escape. Reluctantly, she grabbed the gunnel of the boat—a smallish metal runabout that Diesel clearly used to do his barramundi fishing—perhaps meaning to jump in. Benni had most likely never been on a boat before and she looked back, fear evident in her eyes. “Mummy, help me.”
Kee started to run forward, Wazza right behind her. Then Bruno pulled out a knife and in two strides, he’d reached Benni and grabbed her by the arm, hauling her up so that her feet dangled off the ground.
“Let me go,” she yelled. “I’ll—” The rest of her words were cut off as Bruno shook her like a rag doll. Then he pulled her in front of his body and put the knife to her throat.
Kee stopped dead in her tracks, right at the end of the jetty, and Wazza nearly ran into the back of her.
This was one huge shitpile of a stinking mess. Think, Wazza. Think. How were they going to get Benni back?
“Don’t come any closer, or I’ll cut her,” Bruno warned.
Would he do it? Harm his own niece? Kill her? Wazza didn’t know the man well enough. But Kee’s gasp, and her whispered, “Jebi ga,” told him that perhaps he might.
“Don’t hurt her,” Kee pleaded.
“I won’t, as long as you stay back.” Benni thrashed weakly against him, until he shook her again and she went limp, staring at them with imploring eyes. Jesus, how had he let this happen? He was supposed to be protecting them. “And that means you, too, old fucker.” Bruno tilted his chin to someone behind them.
Wazza turned just enough to see Diesel standing on the riverbank, a shotgun raised and pointed directly at the man and child on the pontoon. He snarled at Bruno, but said nothing. Wazza willed him not to discharge his gun, it looked as ancient as the man himself, and Diesel could just as easily hit Benni as Bruno. The old man might think he was helping, but this situation was going from bad to worse.
