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CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Rory was soon upon the house. He knew it was the right house because, even in the dim light, the 4x4 with the two whip aerials was parked alongside. There was a light in the front window. Skirting along a row of bushes and some scraggly mulga at the side he came up to the back of the house. It was in darkness. The small yard was a mess, strewn with rubbish and bits of old machinery. Nearby was the outside toilet, leaning to one side and no door. A long way away, a dog barked.
Rory had no plan. He would try to look in any window possible and see if Tania was there. He dismissed the idea of a frontal approach. Knocking on the front door and asking, seemed to have little merit or sense. He moved behind a rusting corrugated iron water tank, lying on it's side, to look at the other side of the house. Instinct made him put his head around it before the rest of him. Just as well. The glow, however quick, made him jerk back. Someone was standing at the side of the house, smoking.
His heart racing, and no weapon, he did the first thing that came into his mind. He me-owed like a cat. No sound. He did it again. This time, the almost soundless movement of footsteps. Rory had moved to the end of the tank just around the side, meaning he couldn't be seen until the corner was reached. That is if the other person came that way and not anticlockwise. "Here pussy." The voice was very low and it came from the right direction.
As the man rounded the corner, with his head down slightly looking towards the ground, he reeled back and fell over with the force of powerful over arm punch to the face. In most cases it should have stunned of knocked out a person, but having his head down slightly, looking for the cat, lessened the blow. He was already climbing to his feet and pulling out a pistol from his back pocket before the pain had registered in Rory's hand.
Joining the tank and the stand it once was on, was still the timber and the rusty water pipe attached to it for support. It was just above Rory's head and it caught his eye, outlined dimly by the rising star light. Without thinking, he jumped up and grabbing it with both hands, swung his body back and then lunged out with his feet as best he could. The gun should have been brought up and fired before the feet made contact. But the body in front of him was suddenly not at his own level but above him. This caused a momentary confusion of where to fire. It was enough. The feet made contact and the pistol went flying. As the gunman reeled, Rory let go and landing upright had another attempt at his over arm right hander. The opponent had grown up in rough circles and moved his head enough to get a smashed ear instead of a smashed jaw. Seeing Rory's arm fully extended, he lunged forward with his own punch. One night a long time ago, in a side alley of Pakanbaru, two drunk locals set upon Spikey and Rory. As the larger tried to deliver a straight right to Spikey's jaw, the Britisher simultaneously grabbed it with one arm and kicked the opponent's ankle back. The result was an off balance person who never regained the advantage.
This micro second memory insight was repeated. The gunman came forward and attempted to bring the other leg with him to keep his balance. Rory chopped him down behind the neck. The assailant fell like a stone and didn't move. The pain in Rory's hand was excruciating but he didn't make a sound. He was listening for noises from the house, but there was none. Only the TV. He tied the man's arms and feet all together with his belt and hoped he wouldn't wake up for a few minutes. Getting his breath he cast his eyes around and soon spotted the pistol in the dirt. With this in hand, he crossed to the back door. No sound other than canned music. Rory eased the handle and the door opened with a little squeak With pistol in front he waited to the side of the door until his eyes adjusted, then started to open the inner door
from which light and sound emanated.
Tania was sitting on the floor in the far corner, looking in his direction but obviously not taking it in. Just at that moment the door to the lounge room opened, and check shirt walked in. He obviously had plans as all he was wearing was a check shirt and his face showed he was eager for action. In the same moment, Tania became aware of Rory standing there and yelled his name.
It didn't help the situation for Rory but he headed for the shaking female. Check shirt wasn't slow to dive back through the door. As Rory bent down to help Tania up, she gave a gasp, her eyes on the door to the lounge room. Check shirt was standing there, his ardour cooled somewhat as he focussed on aiming the rifle.
The first shot only missed Rory's head because he leaned down slightly to grab Tania and push her back. He instinctively swung the pistol around and fired in the same breath. His shot missed. The man with the rifle fired again and Rory felt the intense pain in his left arm as the .22 bullet went through the flesh. He also felt nauseous start to sweep up from his stomach. Just like the knife. As the rifle moved slowly and the trigger started to be squeezed, Rory just fired in the direction of the door. Twice.
There was no sound. No rifle shot. Only Tania crying and then the sound of a rifle and body hitting the timber floor.
When the police came about five minutes later and broke in, they found Rory and Tania sitting on the floor, blood still running from the bandaged wound. There was some bile on his shirt. She was supporting him, her arm around his shoulder. In the doorway was a dead man, without any pants. What made him dead was a bullet through the heart.
Rory mentioned the other man tied up outside, but the police returned empty handed. He had gone. When the ambulance arrived and Rory and Tania were on the front veranda, Dusty Dan appeared from the scrub opposite the house.
"Was scouting around after the police arrived and you was all right. No sign of the other bloke but some noises from an old shaft. Sound like moaning.”
It was the sergeant that spoke. "I'll get a light then show me. Just might be the mythical man. Just might be an animal trapped.”
Tania and Rory were whisked away to the small hospital. The police rounded up the local doctor as the resident was a patient, the result of a fall off a ladder. Tania was told to rest. Rory was lucky. The bullet had missed the bone. He should go to Walgett for a check up in the bigger hospital, but as long as it was tomorrow, it should be not detrimental to his health.