Cameron’s colour had slowly returned to normal over the following week. No formal complaint had been made, leaving his police record unblemished, which was more than a lot of people in town could say for themselves. And fair enough too, had been the general consensus. It wasn’t fair that a good kid like Cam should have his life ruined by some drunk backpacker with a few hungover regrets.
Xander sat back in his seat. ‘And he never heard from Jenna again?’
‘Not as far as I know.’
‘So why now?’
‘Yeah. Good question.’
Cameron had been over-prepared, as usual, Nathan thought as he stood on top of Lehmann’s Hill. They had managed to arrive with all four tyres intact. As the ground had grown sandier, Nathan and Bub had got out and deflated them to avoid getting bogged. They’d driven up to the peak and got out to examine the repeater mast, squinting in the sun.
Nathan could tell almost immediately that they wouldn’t need the repair instructions Cameron had carefully printed out before he’d left home on the second-last morning of his life, or most of the tools and equipment he had gathered. The mast on the top of Lehmann’s Hill was suffering from nothing more serious than the wear and tear of constant exposure. A good clean-out of clogged sand and grit and a couple of replacement wires and it would be good to go. It wasn’t really a two-man job, let alone three, so Nathan worked while the others watched.
‘Pass me that small screwdriver, Bub,’ Nathan said, an hour later.
There was no reaction. Bub was standing with his back to the desert and his arms folded, staring out at their own land. Xander was in the car a short distance away, awaiting an instruction to try the radio.
‘Bub? That screwdriver there.’
‘Sorry.’ Bub handed it to him. ‘I was just thinking about some stuff.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Nathan grimaced as a gust of wind blew some grit into his mouth.
‘I should’ve gone down earlier.’
‘What’s that, mate?’ Nathan straightened up.
Bub picked up a small rock and fiddled with it before tossing it down the hill. It rolled for a long way. There was nothing in its path. Lehmann’s Hill was not particularly high but it was tall enough to offer a view. The paddocks glowed red and green from up there and Nathan could see distant shadows as the odd herd of cattle wandered along. They were tiny. The other way, to the west, all was still. The desert looked pristine and untouched, with perfect ripples in the sand. Nathan had seen the landscape so often and in so many ways, he was almost blind to it at times, but sometimes, in the right light, it was still breathtaking.
‘I shouldn’t have waited for Cam for so bloody long. I sat up here in the car for ages.’ Bub squinted out into the distance. Apart from the odd ripple of shadow, there was almost no movement. ‘I dunno why. You can see there’s no-one bloody coming.’
It was true, Nathan knew. A moving car was usually easy to spot.
‘This wasn’t your fault, mate,’ Nathan said finally. ‘He could have been parked somewhere. Or coming from a different direction.’
‘Yeah, maybe. But even when you can’t see it, you can kind of feel it sometimes, don’t you reckon?’ Bub said. ‘When there’s someone near?’
Nathan nodded. Sometimes. Kind of.
‘Yeah, well, I felt bugger all. If I’d left then, got to the track before dark, I might’ve been able to raise the alarm earlier. It might not have been too late then.’ Bub dropped his gaze. Xander was watching them, out of earshot, from the car.
‘I would’ve waited too,’ Nathan said finally.
‘Would you?’ Bub looked up at that.
‘Yep.’ It was true. ‘You arranged to meet him here, you waited here. Nothing wrong with that.’
Bub didn’t reply straight away. ‘I was pissed off with him. That’s why I left it so long.’ He didn’t meet Nathan’s eye. ‘I thought he’d got bogged or got a flat himself. Decided I’d let him sweat it out on his own for a while.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s stupid. It was over bloody nothing.’ He sighed. ‘I was half thinking about heading to Dulsterville next year. Become a roo shooter.’
‘Were you?’ Nathan was surprised. It had never occurred to him that Bub might want to leave the property one day.
‘Yeah, I thought, maybe. Why not?’ Bub sounded defensive.
No reason at all, really, Nathan thought. Kangaroo shooting probably wouldn’t be a bad option for him, and it was the main industry in Dulsterville so there’d be plenty of work. Nathan had driven through the small outback town a few times on his way east. He’d seen the modified utes parked and ready for the night’s work. With their spotlights and their rifle rests mounted on the doors so shots could be taken through the open windows. Large spiked cages on the back to hang the carcasses. The collection point at the edge of town where the tagged ones were turned into cash for the shooters and pet food and fur products for consumers. It was a living.
