Now when I look at you, I see something of myself in your expression, a yearning for the impossible, a spark that’s going to set you on fire and destroy you. I stare at you, marvel at yoursudden faith in me, and feel a wild, primal urge to smile. But I shake my head.
‘One of us should take the car,’ I say.
You frown. ‘I fixed it for both of us.’
I nod. ‘But if someone finds us together, we’re both screwed. You said it yourself. If you won’t take it…You could walk into the bush, couldn’t you?’
‘With nothing?’
‘Haven’t you done it before?’
I watch your Adam’s apple as you swallow. I am surprising you. This isn’t what you expected.
‘We could make a plan,’ you say. ‘If anyone comes, you could take the car before they get here. Lead them away, explain. Then you come back.’
I hesitate. I always thought this was our one safe space, inside the Separates, a sanctuary. And you have just said the words I wanted to hear. I let them sink in, then take a breath.
‘We are fugitives now,’ I say. ‘We can’t go back.’
Your expression is serious as you stare at me. ‘Maybe no one will come.’
But I understand, at last, that even if no one else comes here ever again, us being here isn’t what I want. Not now. I want a different kind of ending. And maybe you see this thought in my eyes because your arm tightens around my shoulders, which only makes me feel more certain.
You shake your head. ‘Why did you bring me here if you…?’
‘You need to disappear,’ I say, more firmly now. ‘That’s why.’
I thought this would feel good when it came. I breathe in the smell of the pool in your hair, feel your warmth against me. I’ll miss this. But will I miss you? Can I be me without you? AmI strong enough to find out?
‘Where would I go, though?’ you ask. ‘I can’t use my name, I won’t have…’
‘…anything,’ I finish. ‘I know.’ I keep your gaze. Without anything, maybe you would finally understand?
You are very still as you study me.
‘You’d have the land,’ I say. ‘You told me once about other wild places.’
‘Further north.’ You nod. ‘Crocs and snakes and stowaways up there.’ You shift behind me to sit up straighter, sliding me off your body. I press against the rock to steady myself. ‘You remember that?’
‘I remember more than you give me credit for.’
Your mouth curls into a small smile. As you look at me, perhaps you also remember more, too—your dreams and fantasies, all you wanted from me. Do you remember the feeling of wanting something impossible, then going to get it?
‘There are islands up north like gardens of Eden,’ you say. ‘Beautiful wildernesses. Reckon someone who doesn’t want to be found could hide there. But you could find me, I could tell you where. A new place.’
I trace my fingertips across the rock beneath me. ‘There’s no new place.’
You go quiet. When I turn to see you properly, your eyes are focused elsewhere, avoiding me. Are you angry, or do you know I am right? Perhaps now this feels like abandonment.
‘Hungry?’ you say suddenly, your eyes narrowing.
You move your chin, indicating something behind me. A lizard, come down to the pool to drink. Almost the length of my arm, fatter than a fox, he’s the sandy-red colour of the rocks.Silently, you reach behind for the gun in the bag, then you place it in my hand.
‘You do it,’ you say.
The lizard still hasn’t sensed we’re here. The sound of him lapping reminds me of Sal with milk. You put my index finger on the trigger and lean against my back, keeping me steady and warm and still. With your fingertips, you adjust the angle of my head so that I’m looking straight at the reptile. I feel your hot breath on my neck and behind my ears.
‘Now, shoot,’ you whisper. ‘When you’re ready. You’re all lined up.’