Scorpio's Lot (13 page)

I cautiously opened the front
door. Helen and Brigit kept close behind. There appeared to be no immediate
threat. We proceeded through the opening, still hearing the commotion from the
rear of the house. Stepping from the verandah onto a bricked footpath, the
sudden appearance of a second intruder came as a shock. He was dressed in a
long coat and wearing a rimmed hat. It was impossible to identify him. His
manner was aggressive and intimidating.

Yelling obscenities, he came
toward me with what appeared to be a dagger. I yelled at the women to continue
toward the car. I raised the baseball bat, my pose similar to that of a striker
about to hit a home run. The man approached, waving his weapon and taunting me.
He then lunged with his knife and missed. My swing was equally ineffective. The
man turned to attempt a second assault. I was ready for his attack. The
southpaw commenced a series of short jabbing lunges, sneering as his knife cut
into the night air. I waited patiently for his actual strike. He then charged,
yelling as he rushed forward. I swung the bat, hitting him on the arm that held
his weapon. He let out a painful scream, dropped the knife and clutched his
injured limb.

Not waiting for the assailant to
regain his composure I made a dash for the car. Upon reaching the driver’s seat
I could see the other man had arrived in the front yard, obviously attracted by
his accomplice’s screams. Helen and Brigit sat nervously in the back seat.

I fumbled with my bunch of keys
and finally, with the correct insertion, prayed like hell the cold motor would
start on the first try. Nothing. I turned the key a second time but again no
sound. Looking back, I could see one of the men running across the front lawn
and actually reaching the car as the motor ignited on my third attempt.
Fortunately Helen and Brigit had had the good sense to lock their doors, but my
situation was about to take a turn for the worse. The assailant wrenched open
my door before I could take off. Now exposed to his mercy I took my foot off
the accelerator and let fly with my right leg, causing him to lose his balance
and fall backwards onto the asphalt road.

Five minutes had transpired since
the emergency phone call and still no sign of the police or the sound of an
approaching siren. ‘What’s taking them so long,’ I muttered to myself. To make
matters worse the second man had now arrived, and with the rear door proving
impossible to open he let loose a frenzy of repeated kicks against the door
panel, screaming obscenities as he continued his assault. The women had become
hysterical. I repositioned my leg upon the accelerator and floored the pedal as
the assailant’s knife flew through the door opening, weaving its path between
my shoulder and the steering wheel. Thrown with such force the blade became
embedded on the dashboard above the glove box, causing a rapid vibration as it
sat jammed in the synthetic dash.

We had become mobile as I leaned
across to close my door, and in seeing the first attacker climb to his feet, I
let fly with the sound of screeching tyres and enough fumes to kill a flock of
passing pigeons. We were finally on our way.

In the rear vision mirror I could
see the assailants climb aboard their 4WD.

‘Are you both okay in the back?’
I said.

‘As well as can be. Bloody hell,
Tom, just get us out of here!’ yelled Brigit.

‘We have a twenty-second lead,’ I
said. ‘It’s not enough time to drive directly to the caravan park. The police
station’s in the opposite direction and I have no intention of turning around.
Somehow I need to create a diversion.’

For a while I drove aimlessly
through the streets with no real purpose as to route or direction. I had to
shake off these guys, but how? Providing we kept to bitumen our chances of
maintaining or increasing the distance was possible. It would be fatal to
venture onto gravel roads, given our pursuers were aboard a Toyota Land
Cruiser.

Brigit reached for her mobile
phone and dialed 000. The recipient incurred a verbal lashing regarding the
delayed response, which to my way of thinking now seemed irrelevant. Brigit
continued with her punishing tongue, pointing out we were now being chased by
these same hoodlums through the streets and outer perimeters of Pedley. Her
directions were vague and confusing. It was ridiculous to expect the law to be
able to find us.

I yelled at Brigit to inform the
authorities we were travelling east of the CBD and what our car’s make and
number plate was. We would phone again if the thugs caught up.

So the chase had begun that would
not only test my driving skills but also the ability to lose them in the night.
Diverting from a major thoroughfare, I randomly selected a side road and kept a
vigilant eye on the rear vision mirror. I had no idea where this would lead us
- it was more to establish if these hoons had spotted us.

A straight section of bitumen
followed the turn-off, which provided opportunity to check their whereabouts.
Half a minute later, a reflection from the mirror suddenly caught my eye and I
knew their headlights were less than a kilometre back. We had gained some time
but ever so slightly.

With a few scattered houses now
coming into view, I sensed we must have travelled a near circle. This road was
leading us back into Pedley. More opportunity for diversion in a built-up area,
I thought. Unless it was an illusion, their high-beam lights now appeared to be
getting closer. Pedley couldn’t come quickly enough. I floored the accelerator,
reaching speeds of up to one hundred, determined to lose them once and for all.
Around corners, down allies and across bridges, I led them on a wild goosechase
through every conceivable path I could think of, never once taking the
conservative option. It was a full-on attempt to escape their grip on things.
There were no headlights in the rear vision mirror, so had my obsession to play
the illegal speedster paid off? I was sure I had succeeded for there was still
no visible proof after one minute.

Back in town I made a number of
turns and then deliberately chose a straight stretch to see if they were still
on our trail. No lights to be seen after a minute. I felt more at ease and
could sense the women shared my sentiments. I chose a side street I knew led in
the direction of the caravan park. At eleven-thirty pm the comforts of an
on-site van seemed more appropriate for Helen and Brigit than a trip to the
local police station, which was probably shut at this hour.

From out of nowhere an on-coming
vehicle with blinding high-beam lights headed directly toward us, on the same
side of the street. There was little time to react. I slammed the brakes hard,
the sudden change in motion causing the car to swerve and hit the gutter,
spinning the vehicle to a halt. The motor ceased. There was a screech of tyres
and the approaching blinding light stopped immediately in our path. No more
than a metre separated the two vehicles. Two doors slammed, but the brightness
from the car lights made it impossible to detect the mens’ whereabouts. I
yelled to Helen and Brigit to keep the doors locked while I tried the ignition.
But it was too late.

Suddenly Brigit’s side window was
smashed by a crowbar, sending the women into terrified confusion. A second
assailant attempting to break through on Helen’s side had all the hallmarks of
a crazed madman. Grunting and cursing, he had worked himself up into a frenzied
state as if possessed by the devil itself.

Now screaming obscenities, the
man continued to punish the car, repeatedly kicking at the side door and
window. The glass pane gave way, shattering into pieces over the back seat and
its occupants. He leaned forward to release the door catch. Helen shrieked in
terror, simultaneously trying to fend off her attacker and pull Brigit away from
the clutches of the other.

With the door now open, the first
man took hold of Helen roughly and dragged her toward the road, but she had had
the good sense to remain buckled in. In his crazed and obsessed state, the
assailant realised the safety belt would need to be released if he were to
secure his prey. Screaming continued from both women.

My front seat position was
proving to be a handicap. Brigit was beyond arm’s length and Helen’s dilemma
had reached a critical point. I had to do something to assist them, and
quickly. Think! I spotted the steering wheel lock resting on the front
passenger’s seat. At around half a metre of hardened steel, it made a
formidable weapon. Helen’s belt had become unfastened and her slender stature
couldn’t resist the bullying tactics of her aggressor. I reached for the weapon
and took aim. The thug from Brigit’s side saw my intent and immediately yelled
to his accomplice.

But the deed was done. With one
downward thrust the steering lock connected squarely with the man’s forearm,
sending him into a continuous scream. When he retreated to tend to his wound I
focused my attention on the other side, for the first man had already leaned
forward through a further broken window and had hold of Brigit. With her arm
supported by a sling, her ability to fight back was restricted. I still had the
lock in my hand, but with Brigit in the far rear seat the distance was too
great to swing the bar effectively. I immediately passed it to Helen, yelling
at her to ram it into his face. With two hands grasping the bar, she lunged
forward and completely missed her target. I screamed at her to try again. Not
only did she break his nose with her second swipe, but a third blow landed
squarely to the side of his head, rendering the man unconscious.

Sliding backward through the
window opening, the assailant caught his head on some glass protruding from the
side frame. Two large fragments were catastrophic in punishment, carving their
passage upon his skull as he slowly descended into a collapsed heap through the
opening.

We had managed to escape again
but this was no time to wait around for another onslaught. We had to move
quickly, and now. With a turn of the ignition the motor responded. I placed the
gear lever in reverse, and gave myself room to go around the 4WD.

‘Hold on!’ I roared.

In my rush to escape the carnage
the engine accelerated to four or five thousand revs, creating one hell of a
noise and leaving behind a thick cloud of smoke. I tore down this stretch of
road, constantly looking across at the mirror. We were into our third block
past the first intersection and no sign of life from behind. I tried to remain
calm and focused. The night air rushing in where windows once served was
incredibly cold. The women huddled together to gain some warmth, but it was all
in vain since the draught had turned the car’s interior into something
reminiscent of a wind tunnel. I felt for my two companions, thinking that no
person deserved the trauma we’d just been through. These guys must be desperate
to silence Brigit, I thought. I wondered if they ever accepted defeat. A minute
had passed and still no 4WD in pursuit. I was now confident the worst had
passed.

‘Did either of you recognise
those men?’ I called over the wind in the car.

‘No,’ Helen shouted back and
added, ‘I didn’t think to get their number plate.’

‘They were trying to drag us from
the car!’ Brigit snapped. ‘Number plates were the last damn thing on my mind!’

‘Tom, would you take us to the
police station now. This matter has gone way beyond a joke,’ insisted Helen.

‘Certainly. I’m low on fuel
anyway and the service stations are probably all closed at this hour. We’ll run
out of petrol if we keep travelling around. There’s probably no more than ten
kilometres left in the tank.’

As anticipated, the police
station was closed for the night. At 12.14 am the local authorities would have
considered a day’s duty to be well and truly over. This was not one of your
open-all-hours city outlets.

‘Tom, I’m not going back to my
house tonight,’ Helen declared. ‘Who knows what mess they’ve left it in, and
besides, I wouldn’t feel safe in case those thugs return.’

‘Take us to your caravan park. At
least we won’t have to handle another round of Forbes’ interrogation!’ insisted
Brigit.

‘Good,’ I said. ‘Glad to hear you’ve
come to your senses.’

The return trip was a quiet
affair. No one uttered a word during the five-minute journey. There was no moon
and this cold winter night was extraordinarily dark. There was no sighting of
the 4WD now and for the first time in over two hours I felt a sense of relief.
I deliberately parked my car inside the garage, not wanting to advertise the
damage of the evening.