Was that how Matt felt?
As kids, she had asked him a million questions about his Bayungu heritage and though he’d been reluctant to speak of it at first, she’d bugged him until at last he gave in and taught her how to recognise animal tracks and walk silently through the bush. It was difficult for him, balancing the need of a teenager to fit in with the responsibilities and requirements of his culture. Georgie had always thought it romantic he had such ties to the land, and she loved listening to the Dreamtime stories his parents told her of magical creatures who shaped the land and set the laws. As an adult she understood the issues a little better, and wished she’d been more sensitive to Matt’s wishes.
She strode over to the monitoring station and took the required readings, then she took a moment to simply take in the surroundings and enjoy the peace. She spotted a little lizard sunning itself on a rock and watched it for a short while as it bobbed its head. The sun was warming now, so she slapped on sun cream and took a long drink from her water bottle.
When her stomach rumbled, she grabbed her sandwich from her bag and bit into the soft bread. Sitting on the back of the four-wheel drive, the door open, she spotted movement all around her as insects buzzed and lizards dashed between hiding places. The idea that a dozen or more could be crammed into a lunchbox-sized container to suffocate or survive was hideous. She shook her head and wandered to the edge of the escarpment and scanned the land below her. She didn’t expect to see any traps from this far up, but she would notice a car in an area where it wasn’t meant to be.
All was quiet. On the one road that ran down the side of the range, people drove on their way to one of the beach spots ready to spend the day in the water or to go on a boat tour at Yardie Creek.
She frowned as a thought occurred to her. Were the smugglers connected with Stonefish? Darcy and Matt had noticed new tracks when they’d taken a flight over the Ridge. They hadn’t figured out why the tracks were there, but perhaps they led to the ranges and allowed the smugglers access to the ocean to ship their illegal cargo.
She’d have to follow it up.
She finished her sandwich and tucked the plastic wrapper in the rubbish bag in her car and then drove back down the range.
Georgie was on her last stop of the day, heading to a remote area of the park to check more monitoring stations. The map Declan had given her was clear, there was only one road in and she couldn’t possibly miss it. Georgie slowed her vehicle as she noticed tyre tracks leading off the track. Damn. The tracks crumpled the low grasses and wound to the base of the ranges where trees and shrubs blocked her view.
Declan had told her to report anomalies. A lot of four-wheel drive enthusiasts decided to make tracks of their own just because they could. They didn’t like to be restricted. This looked like one of those.
She hesitated. She’d have to be pretty damned unlucky to come across any smugglers. She picked up a radio. “Georgie to base, over.”
“What is it, Georgie?” the receptionist, Karen asked.
“I’m out at False Valley,” she said. “Someone’s driven off the trail heading to the base of the ranges. Want me to check it out?”
A pause before Karen answered. “Yeah, take a quick look,” she said. “Let us know what you find.”
“Will do.”
Georgie shifted into first and turned left, slowly making her way over the bumpy ground, keeping as close to the existing tyre tracks as she could. It wasn’t more than about two hundred metres in and she winced as a couple of branches scraped down the sides of the car. If she found nothing, she would feel awful about the scratches.
The road ended in front of a wall of wattle shrubs. Shit. Not enough space to turn. She’d have to back out of here.
Georgie switched off the engine and got out, the car door shutting sounding loud in the quietness. She examined the area for footprints and paths and found a trail of broken branches around the other side of her car. Her skin tingled and she went back to the car to clip the radio onto her belt before she pushed her way through.
She stepped carefully the way Matt had taught her.
Part of her cringed at being overly cautious, but experience with Stonefish made it seem wise.
The wall of wattles was about three plants deep but whoever had been here before had made the way easier. The wattles ended and there were a couple of metres between them and the red rock of the range stretching high above her.
She scanned the area, jolting when she saw a circle of rocks with ash in the middle. A fire. Someone had camped here. Taking another slow look around the area, her gaze drifted upwards to a ledge only a couple of metres above her, but she saw no one.
Walking over to the fire, she crouched down and touched the ashes. They still held a hint of warmth. Her skin prickled. With the range on one side and the wattles on the other, it created a sheltered place to camp.
She clambered up to the ledge to have a better look at the area, pulling herself to standing, and stared into the mouth of a cave. A rattle of stones from inside made her stiffen. Shit.
Probably just a shy wallaby. Still, she reached for the radio on her belt and turned the volume low. Quietly she said, “This is Georgie to base, come in.”
Declan answered. “What did you find, Georgie?”
“Looks like someone’s camped here recently. The ashes are still warm, but there’s no other sign of them.” She peered into the darkness of the cave beyond. Heat radiated out.
“Roger that. Take some photos and you can show me when you get back.”
She kept hold of the radio as she stared at the cave. The light only penetrated the first few metres. She hesitated. Was it foolish to go further inside? She was alone out here. If someone was in there, they would have heard her conversation, but Georgie didn’t want to corner someone who might do something foolish.
Declan had said the smugglers weren’t usually violent. And what if the noise was animals waiting to be collected? The images Declan had shown her of the dead and dehydrated reptiles were clear in her mind and anger stirred. She drew her phone out of her pocket and flicked on the torch before stepping into the warm dark interior of the cave. Slowly she panned the light, ready for anything. The cave ran four or five metres back and as she moved forward, she heard that rattle again. Moving more confidently now with images of lizards in need of her help, she took several steps forward, lifting her light so it shone further. A man slipped around the corner. Georgie froze as recognition hit her.
