‘Taxi?’she asked.
‘Where d’ya think you landed, eh?New York?’
‘How about some directions—’
‘I’m not your tour guide, lady.I don’t do tourists.’
‘I’m trying to get to Elsie Creek Police Station.’
He barked a laugh.‘Foot falcon it is, then.’
‘Huh?’
‘You’re hoofin’ it.Road’s that way.Unless you can climb a fence.The cop shop’s there.’He pointed across the tarmac to where a cluster of buildings sat.
There was a gigantic red cross covering the roof of what she assumed was the hospital.A painted Dalmatian, cocking its leg at a red fire hydrant, lived on another roof.The building next to it, had a masked burglar carrying a sack held back by a very muscular arm, in what could only be described as a comic book scene that covered the entire roof.‘What is that?’
‘Strong arm of the law.’
‘That’s the police station?’
‘Yeah, it’s good advertising, I reckon.The Sarge put floodlights on it so you can see it for miles.’
‘He paid for that painting on the roof?’
‘Nah.It just showed up one day, like all the other roofs that got painted in town.Didn’t you see it from the sky?’
‘I was looking out the other side of the plane.’
‘Tourists.Just what this world needs, more bloody tourists.’He rolled his eyes, wiping his hands on his small hand towel, the same colour as his coveralls.
‘I’m not here as a tourist, but to work at the police station.’She pointed to the building.
‘Well, then, you’ll have to take the long way round, won’t ya?Coz no one walks on my airstrip, especially tourists in a city suit asking twenty-thousand questions.’He grumbled, disappearing around the side of a plane.
With a silent curse, Taryn grabbed the handle of her suitcase and trudged forward.Her heels immediately sank into the red dirt.It didn’t take much for the blisters to start forming where the powdery dirt created friction inside her shoes, and that was before she’d even hit the main road.
And then she saw it.
A water buffalo.
Not just any buffalo…
This one had flowers and ribbons twisted through his horns like he was off to a wedding.Someone had scrawled SUPERMARKET SPECIAL: 50% OFF BAKED BEANS & BULK BOG ROLLS in white chalk across his black coat.
Taryn froze, unsure what the protocol was for approaching water buffaloes.
He snorted at her, only to turn around, ribbons fluttering in the breeze as he strolled past the sign:
Welcome to Elsie Creek
Behind her, the highway stretched out like a long strip of liquorice left to roast under the sun and disappear on the horizon.The odd dusty ute or two shifted ahead on the haze of heat that shimmered to distort the town.
Twin railway lines ran alongside the road in perfect unison, making up the boundary line for the stockyards.Although empty now, the yards were a ghost town of chaotic rails and troughs, bigger than the small outback town that was home to the Federal Stock Squad.
The wheels of her suitcase struggled on the road, her heels faring just as badly, as she kept walking the airport’s outer perimeter.Along a highway that had no cars.
Suddenly, the ground shook beneath her heels like an earth tremor, as a deep rumble swelled to a roar.Taryn turned, eyes wide, heart in her throat, as a wall of red dust exploded skyward, led by a mountain of metal hurtling straight toward her.
