Thyla - Kate Gordon [57]
‘Sometimes I wish the Sarcos hadn’t come to our house that night,’ Rhiannah said softly. ‘I wish I could be normal again, and not have to spend my whole life out here, hunting those creeps. I wish we’d never moved down from Wynyard. Then this would never have happened. I wish I could go back to Mum and Dad; help them with their veggies and their market stall. I wish it was simple like that. Sometimes I even wish Mum and Dad had been there that night, so they could be Sarcos too. So we wouldn’t be so alone. I wish we hadn’t been changed. I wish we didn’t have to do this. But then I think, if we don’t do it, who will? I still don’t think we should unite with the Thylas, though. They’re our en–’
Rhiannah stopped and sniffed at the air, just like Perrin had done. But she didn’t look in my direction. Instead, she looked to her left, and I saw her mouth the word, ‘human’.
The Sarcos froze and talked no more.
I could still hear their hearts beating though. I could hear each one individually and it seemed as though I knew which heart belonged to which of my friends. If indeed they still were my friends.
The heart I heard most loudly – deep and full and resonant – I believed belonged to Perrin.
And I allowed myself, just for a moment, to enjoy the feeling of hearing his heart and mine. It was as though they were playing some rhythmic music together.
How was it possible, I wondered, to be dead and still have a heartbeat?
Especially since I had never felt more alive.
Perrin’s heart quickened as the sound of feet crunching through the undergrowth echoed through the bush. It felt as though the whole world had stopped and was waiting, watching, to see who was making the noise.
Finally there was a voice. A new voice, but one I recognised. ‘Hello? Is anybody there? It’s just me, Ms Hindmarsh!’
My skin prickled.
I remembered the cold look in her eyes.
I remembered her slow, terrifying walk towards me, her arms outstretched. I remembered the hint of something sinister in her voice when she demanded to see my scars.
I remembered the phone call. ‘Hello, Vinnie. I was hoping it would be you. Something has happened.’
Ms Hindmarsh knew about me. And she wasn’t scared.
And now she was here. It wasn’t right that she was here.
Ms Hindmarsh wasn’t to be trusted. I could smell it.
But I could also smell the terror of the Sarcos fading away. They weren’t scared any more. They trusted Ms Hindmarsh.
‘Rhiannah, Harriet, Sara? Is that you?’ Ms Hindmarsh called out.
‘It’s us, Ms Hindmarsh!’ Rhiannah called back. ‘We’re just finishing up our bushwalk. We’ll be coming back soon!’
‘I’m with them, Cynthia. Don’t worry!’ Perrin added.
Cynthia.
Perrin called Ms Hindmarsh by her first name. They must be friends.
Then I remembered the dark-haired man in Ms Hindmarsh’s photo – the one who’d reminded me of Perrin. The hair, the pale skin, that knowing look in their eyes.
‘Well, that’s good, Perrin,’ said Ms Hindmarsh as she walked into sight. ‘You never know when one of your own might need protecting.’
‘Cynthia.’ Perrin’s voice became tender, and I saw him lope over to Ms Hindmarsh, while the other Sarcos shrank back against the trees. Ms Hindmarsh only had human eyes. She couldn’t see them. As he left the others, I heard him hiss something in some strange, foreign language of growls and squeals. Sarco language. I did not understand it, but I looked quickly to Rhiannah and the others and I saw that they were hastily pulling bangles from their backpacks and pushing them onto