Page 49 of The Island

“That’s what I thought,” Jacko said. “Now, be a good girl and take it out.”

Owen was staring at her. Both kids looked horrified, terrified. Owen didn’t even know about his dad yet.

“Owen, Olivia, I want you both to close your eyes. Owen, pull that hood back over your head too. Eyes shut tight both of you.”

Owen pulled the hood over his head. Olivia shut her eyes tight. Neither of them, she hoped, knew what was about to happen next. Jacko’s jeans were originally blue but they were so encrusted with filth they had turned a reddish black. He was grinning. The rifle was strapped over his back.

She looked at him.

He mind-read her. “Now, don’t you do nothing silly, Heather,” he said. “’Cause you know what’ll happen to you and you know what will happen to her.”

She was tempted to smash him in the balls with her tied hands. She could probably give him a pretty painful whack, but then what? He would break her face and then he would rape Olivia.

She reached up to his fly and tugged at it. It was so coated with grime and rust that she couldn’t get it down.

“You can do better than that, Heather,” Jacko said. She tried harder but the fly would not come down.

“I don’t think it’s had much practice,” she said.

“I hope for your sake you’re not trying to smart-mouth me, little girl,” Jacko said. He took a step back, undid his belt and zipper, and pulled his pants down. Just then the door opened and Matt was standing there with the Dutch couple.

“What in the name of living shit is this?” Matt said.

“None of your bloody business, mate,” Jacko replied. “Come back in ten minutes!”

“Like hell I will. Get out of here.”

“Says who?”

Matt slung the rifle off his shoulder and pointed it at Jacko. “Says me, arsehole.”

“You do that and you’ll be in here with them,” Jacko snarled.

“And your head will be all over the bloody ceiling.”

The two men stared at each other.

The air crackled.

Heather held her breath.

Maybe she could try to—

Jacko took a step back and pulled up his jeans. He looked at Heather and then at Matt and spit. “Tight bitch anyway, you can tell,” he said and stormed out of the shed, muttering to himself.

Heather’s heart was pounding in her ears. Her hands were shaking.

“All right, you two, sit on the ground,” Matt said to the Dutch couple. “I can’t have either of you walking around in here, so I’m going to put these ropes around your necks and attach them to the shed.”

“Are you mad?” Hans said. “You can’t do this!”

“Look at the kids. If I’m doing it to them, I’m bloody doing it to you,” Matt replied. “Now sit!”

The Dutch couple sat on the dirt floor of the shearing shed. Their hands had already been tied and they’d been stripped of their possessions. Heather could tell that Hans wasn’t absorbing what was happening but Petra understood now. She began to cry as Matt put the rope around her neck.

“Really, this is absurd!” Hans said. He still wasn’t getting it. In his head, he was writing a stern letter to the Australian tourism board.

When the Dutch couple were secured, Matt checked the knots on the kids and Heather. They could pick at those bonds all night and wouldn’t get out of them.