For Sale or Swap - Alyssa Brugman [47]
She could go through the paddock. That would mean that the truck was between her and the window of the house for most of the way. She could slip through the fence at the far end.
Once she was out on the road she could find a street sign and memorise the location of the house. She might be able to convince her parents to bring her back here to ask the man about Blue, or she could tell the police. She would worry about all of that later. Now she just wanted to get away.
But what if Blue is in the paddock – right here, right now?
Shelby knew she would regret it later if she didn't at least look.
She peered around the side of the truck. There was no movement from inside the house. She took a deep breath and scurried across the gravel to the side of the house. The dog ran along beside her, wagging his tail. Once she had made it she leaned her back against the wall and let the air out of her lungs. She waited but there was no sound from inside.
In the paddock at the side of the house five horses stood dozing. Two of the horses pricked their ears towards her. One of them was Blue's height, but it was chestnut, and much stockier and thicker around the neck; it looked like a Welsh pony.
No Blue.
From here she could see the opening to the shed at the back of the house. Bales of hay were stacked in the corner, and there was a ride-on mower. Behind the shed was thick with scrub. It looked as though the place backed onto some sort of bush reserve. If she could get through the fence there, she could stay hidden in the scrub while she worked her way around the property boundary and back to the road.
Shelby sprinted across the weedy back lawn, towards the bush.
Suddenly she heard the back screen door squeak and she turned around. Mr Morgan stood with his hand on the lever. He frowned when he saw Shelby.
'You!' he said.
He took a step towards her.
She moved backwards. A few sticks crackled under her feet.
'What are you doing here?' He didn't look angry, just confused.
Rusty started to bark and Shelby could hear the crackly sound of tyres on the gravel driveway at the front of the house. Mr Morgan turned his head towards the sound. 'Who's that?' he asked.
Shelby didn't wait to find out. She turned towards the scrubby bush and ran. She ducked under the fence and, hearing Mr Morgan's footsteps running towards her, pushed through the thick branches with her arms protecting her face until she found a narrow trail. Then she ran along it as fast as she could, until her lungs were sore and a deep stitch was buried under her ribcage.
23 Bandicoot Bait
The narrow path zigzagged through the scrub. It must have been an animal track because it was only cleared low down and the branches of the bushes thickened at chest height. Her arms were raw with scratches, and her eyes watered with the sting from twigs whipping back into her face.
Shelby still thought she could hear Mr Morgan pursuing her, crashing through the bushes and breathing raggedly only a few paces behind her. He might have followed for a little while, but after that it was just her imagination. There was no crashing sound except for the swinging of branches that she had thrust out of her way.
Eventually the trail widened, and she stopped to catch her breath on the edge of a long cleared strip of land with tall, metal, X-shaped power poles running down a gentle slope to the left, and up over the crest of a hill to the right. Weaving underneath was a dirt road, which must have been used by the electricity company to maintain the power lines.
The sun was getting brighter and the first cicadas began to screech from the trees above her. Shelby could tell from the heavy stillness of the air that it was going to be a real stinker of a day.
Shelby trudged to the top of the hill, and when she reached the top she stood with her hands on her hips looking over the valley below. It took a moment to get her bearings, because the morning sunshine hit her face on the left-hand side, and she was used to it being on the right.