Page 71 of The Vanishing Place

Effie sat on the bed—unchained—staring at the door.

Ready .

She’d eaten the chunk of bread as well as some of the spilled lentils from the floor, and she’d salvaged a tablespoon of water from the cup.

Her feet and ankle were wrapped in scraps of fabric from the sheets, and she’d pulled on the few items of clothing she had.

It was still summer, but at night, the bush was cold, and her drained body shivered at its edges.

Not her stomach though—it was filled with fire.

Sometime after dark, someone had returned to the hut.

There had been a shuffling of furniture and a flicker of light under the door, but nothing else.

No food. No grunted insults or thumps on the door.

But they would come. In the morning, the door would open, and they would come.

And Effie would be ready. Minutes ticked away, then hours, and Effie closed her eyes. Resting. But not sleeping.

Her eyes flicked open at the first soft knock.

Tap. Tap .

Effie dug her nails into her palms as the door inched open, candlelight leaking in, and the girl appeared.

“Anya.”

The girl held a finger to her lips and shook her head violently, fear creeping into her eyes. Then she gestured for Effie to go with her.

Effie nodded and followed in silence. When she reached the door, the girl took her hand, and Effie felt the touch of skin deep in her stomach. She had to force herself not to crush the bones in the child’s fingers.

Without a sound, they stepped from the bedroom and into the guts of the small dark hut. Then Effie gasped—too loudly—and Anya flashed her a frightened look.

Shh, she mouthed.

Daniel was there, his sleeping body lolling across the couch, his right arm hanging down, fingers brushing the floor. Anya pointed at the door, her palm damp in Effie’s, then she guided Effie across the room. The girl’s steps were so light, so impossibly quiet, that Effie feared it was a dream.

Then there was a groan, and Effie glanced across at Daniel, fear flooding her chest. Just one sound and the sleeping figure would transform into something dangerous.

Anya tugged at her arm, and together they forged a path to the door.

One step at a time. Quiet as mice. The door creaked as Effie pushed it open, and her heart stopped.

Daniel was going to wake up. His fingers were going to grip her arm. And they would never leave.

No one ever leaves here. This is the vanishing place.

But then, miraculously, they were out in the cool night air. Anya released Effie’s hand and scurried along the deck, her small body eaten by the darkness, and Effie held her breath. But seconds later, Anya returned with two head-torches.

“Run,” she whispered.

For meter after meter, neither of them spoke.

They just ran, hand in hand—two white dots in the dark—deeper into the trees.

Eventually, the sounds of the bush—the call of morepork and the scrape of climbing possums—drowned out the thump in Effie’s veins and she stopped.

She bent over and gulped at the night air.

“Thank you,” she panted. “Thank you.”

Anya tugged at Effie, digging her small fingers into her arm.

“Come on,” she puffed. “We need to find Mum. She’s at the other hut, but Lewis is getting her.”

“Lewis?” Effie couldn’t move.

“At Peter’s hut, where he keeps Mum. It’s farther away.” Anya’s voice was hurried and shaky. “Come on. We need to meet Lewis and Mum at—”

“Anya.” Effie held the girl’s hand. “Stop. Stop. I don’t understand. Adam said you were in foster care.”

“I lied.”

“But…” Effie frowned and shook her head. “The burns on your arm?”

The smallest smile tugged at the corners of Anya’s mouth. “I burned myself on June’s shitty oven. On the stupid wire shelf. Then Lewis suggested the smoker thing. He said it would be convincing.”

“Lewis is here?”

“We came to get you.”

“The police?”

Anya looked down, her torch illuminating her feet. “Nah.” She kicked at the dead leaves. “Just me and Lewis.”

“Jesus. Why on earth would…” Effie hesitated, realization stopping her, and she looked at the girl.

“Lewis didn’t know,” said Effie. “He didn’t know about any of this, did he? Peter, and all of them.”

Anya shook her head.

“Why didn’t you tell—”

“I didn’t think he’d believe me,” she said. “Or I thought maybe he’d tell that big police lady and she’d make me stay behind in Koraha.”

“Shit.” Effie let out a long breath. “Right.”

“Lewis has been sleeping in a bivvy thing somewhere close, and watching.”

Effie gave the girl an encouraging smile. “You’ve done great, Anya. Really great.”

“I thought, you know, that Lewis would phone his police friends when we got here. When he saw that…” She stopped.

“Then they’d bring the big helicopters and the dogs and stuff.

But there’s no phone signal out here. Lewis was real mad at me.

He said if we don’t die, that I’m grounded for life.

” Anya glanced up. “But Lewis wouldn’t go back to Koraha. He said he wouldn’t leave you again.”

Effie took her hand. “Come on. Let’s go find them.”

“We need to get to the clearing. Lewis said to meet there.”

They walked for fifteen minutes, just two specks of light, nothing stirring but the leaves beneath their feet. The fabric wrapped around Effie’s feet had soaked through, and the soles of her feet throbbed, but the pain was numbed by the beat of adrenaline. By the thought of Lewis.

“We’re close,” said Anya. She pointed to a marked tree. “See?”

A crack exploded through the still air, and the tree next to them shook.

Splinters of bark swept past Effie’s face, and she threw herself in front of the child, shielding her.

Then she looked up, the light of her head-torch sending a beam of white through the trees.

A figure appeared in the shaft of light.

A dark mass. There—then gone. A trick of the light—of her mind.

“What is it?” whispered Anya.

“I don’t—”

A second crack tore a hole in the night, the sound throbbing in Effie’s skull, and she stumbled back. But in the dark, there was nothing. Her chest heaved so loudly that she could barely hear her own thoughts.

“ Effie! ” Anya screamed.

“It’s okay.” Effie swung her head from left to right. Then she saw him.

Daniel stood ten meters away, his legs braced wide, the fingers of his right hand curled around the handle of a gun.

For a second, none of them moved. They just stared at each other.

Then Daniel’s face broke into a cold smile and he started to walk forward.

As he raised his gun, aiming at them, Effie pushed the girl behind her.

“No!” A scream fractured the quiet. And suddenly, Tia was there.

She threw herself at Daniel, wild and loud and vicious, and he dropped the gun.

She lunged at him, curling her arms and legs around his body and clawing at his face.

But Daniel threw Tia off like she was nothing.

Anya tried to run forward but Effie clutched the girl’s clothes, holding her tight as she writhed and squirmed.

Effie turned, using her body to block the child’s view, then she reached out and switched their head-torches off, plunging them into darkness.

Only the white circles of Daniel’s and Tia’s torches remained, one glowing dot unmoving on the ground and the other towering high. The sounds that accompanied the black made Effie want to cry.

The thud of feet kicked into flesh. The animallike groans of pain.

“ Mum ,” Anya screamed.

Then a voice, a stillness, came out of nowhere.

“We need to keep moving,” he whispered.

“Lewis?”

“Yes.”

The warmth of his breath brushed against Effie’s cheek as the outline of his face appeared from the shadows.

“You need to get Anya away from here,” he said.

“We can’t leave Tia.”

“Cover the girl. Make sure she can’t see.”

Then Lewis turned on his head-torch, illuminating the image of Daniel and Tia.

There was blood smeared across Daniel’s face and his clothes were covered in dirt, but he was smiling.

Tia was curled on the ground, unmoving but not dead, her arms held up to protect her head and face.

Lewis took a step forward, pointing a gun at Daniel.

“Police,” said Lewis. “I need you to step back.”

Daniel raised his arms, then started to inch back from the mound at his feet.

“You can have the bitch,” he said. “She’s not worth it.”

Effie stood behind Lewis, Anya clutched at her side. “I’m going to go and help your mum,” she said. “Okay?”

Anya nodded and Effie released her. She walked in the light from Lewis’s torch, watching Daniel the whole way, until she reached her sister’s side. Daniel stood a few meters away, hands still raised, held by the threat of Lewis’s gun.

“Tia,” she whispered. “It’s me.”

Her sister turned her head, then lowered her arms.

“It’s time to get up,” said Effie softly. “Then we’re going to leave.” She stroked her sister’s cheek. “All of us. You and me and Anya. We’re getting out of here.”

A smile parted Tia’s lips, her teeth lined with blood, and she placed a shaking hand in Effie’s.

“You came back.” She coughed.

“Yes. I came back.” Effie brushed the hair from Tia’s swollen face. “Tia, I’m so—”

A gunshot splintered the black air, stealing Effie’s words and vibrating through her ears. She spun her head around, spotting the darkened figure in the trees. He stood with his arms raised and a gun held to his face.

Peter? Or Adam?

Effie scanned the scene, trying to make sense of it. But it was too dark. There were too many unknowns.

Lewis, outnumbered now, had turned toward the new threat.

And Daniel was gone.

Before Effie had time to react, her stomach exploded with pain—the force of a foot—and she crumpled to the ground.

The trees and ferns spun around her and she vomited into the dirt.

The pain in her abdomen rooted her to the ground, her body emptied of breath, and there was nothing but white behind her eyelids.

A bright white light, flooding her vision.

Then somewhere, far away, there were voices. A violent splintering of air.

Crack .

Then another. Two gunshots.

Effie stumbled forward on hands and knees until she was stopped by something soft and warm.

A body.

Hacking up saliva, Effie rubbed at her eyes, blinking the white flashes from her vision. Then she sat up. But when she pulled her hands away, she froze.

Tia lay there, eyes closed and lips open. Unresponsive.

“No.”

At some point, two figures crouched down next to her in the leaves—the girl and Lewis—but she couldn’t think or see past her sister’s body.

“Tia.” Effie sobbed and sank to the ground, her words barely a whisper. “You can’t leave me.”

“They’re gone,” said Lewis. “Peter and Daniel. They’re gone.”

This can’t be the end .

“Peter’s dead. I shot him.”

This is meant to be the beginning .

He touched a hand to Effie’s shoulder. “Daniel ran off after he shot…”

Anya was crying.

“I’m so sorry.” Lewis again. “But we have to go, Effie. It’s not safe to stay here.”

She held a hand out and cupped her sister’s face. Effie had only just found her again. Tia would open her eyes. She would blink, and her eyes would open.

“Effie,” Lewis said. “We can’t stay. We can try and carry her.”

But her sister’s eyes didn’t open; they didn’t so much as flicker.

And with a single gunshot, there was only one of them left, one of Mum’s four bush children.