In Store Price: $AU35.95 
Online Price:   $AU34.95

ISBN:    978-1-921240-29-4
Format: A5 Paperback
Number of pages: 502
Genre: Fiction
 

By the same author: Slave Trader: In the Name of Freedom

Cover: Reisa Ginsberg

Author Profile  

Carol Marvell lives on a property outside Childers in Queensland , Australia . Married with three children, she works as a teacher aide in a local school. She has travelled extensively throughout Asia, Europe, the United Kingdom , North America, New Zealand and Australia . She is a member of a four-piece country rock band and also belongs to a string orchestra.  

Providence Road: In the Name of Friendship is Carol’s second novel and the sequel to Slave Trader: In the Name of Freedom, also published by Zeus Publications.

ONE

Mrs Bland pushed open the old worn door and stepped into the single room. An evil smirk twisted her thin lips as her gaze swept around the small timber shack…no furniture, no fittings, no windows. It was simply a large empty storeroom thrown together with timber cut down from the surrounding bush. There was no lining on the walls, just logs in their rough and raw state. Different sized gaps between them helped the circulation of air against the heat, making the small hut a comfortable temperature. Branches and thick grass sufficed as the roof, tied down in thick layers to keep out the rain when it did come. The timber floor was made up of old second-hand boards; some bowed and twisted, straining against the nails holding them in place. Again, they were roughly fitted together in no professional or eye-catching manner. They did the job and that was all that mattered.

In her late forties, Mrs Bland was well muscled despite the excess weight she carried. She stood tall and strong. Dark oily hair styled in a bob clung to the rounded face, swallowing her neck beneath a double chin. Tattoos of crouching tigers marred the tight biceps on each arm under the rolled-up sleeves of her blotted army shirt. She was an intimidating picture, conveying a message she was not to be messed with.

She’d come to check her prisoners. Her gaze floated across the four girls lying unconscious on the hard floor. Their hands were cuffed in front of them. Half a metre of chain ran from the handcuffs to the floor, securing each of them separately to a large steel ring screwed deeply into the old wooden floorboards beside their sleeping forms. Using this method, it kept them apart by at least a metre.

Bland went straight to where the cop lay. Detective Billie McCoy had messed with her one too many times and now it was payback time. With a sadistic smile, Bland knelt beside her. Pulling out a small bottle of smelling salts, she stuck it under the detective’s nose.

Billie groaned. Her head rolled to the side to escape the vile aroma insistently attempting to draw her out of her induced sleep. Free of the stifling tang, she settled again.

Bland’s smile widened after seeing the effect her wake-up method was having. Staring down at the peaceful face, the cop’s good looks only provoked the big woman’s animosity. How she hated her. Then again, it was her good looks that had brought them their biggest sale ever. They’d sold her to the sheik for 250,000 big ones, a sum well worth the trouble this cop came with. He’d taken an instant liking to her.

The blonde hair fell halfway down her shoulders, softly feathered whisks tapering away from the lengthy fringe. Her face showed good breeding and high intelligence, a strong will and intellect from the many experiences life had thrown at her. Set off with high cheekbones, her attractive features were complemented by lustrous lips and deep blue eyes, not to mention an almost perfect figure from years of disciplined exercise and training – it was just a pity that she made it so difficult to control her. But now they would control her. She was going right back to where she belonged – her new master.

Bland positioned the salts back under her prisoner’s nose.

Billie jerked her head away. This time she woke suddenly with the second dose of the horrible stench. Her eyes shot open. For a minute she stared blankly at the figure looming above. Then her focus honed in on the face, the face that instantly turned her blood cold. Bland!

It took all Billie’s willpower to control the shock that gripped her, to hold back the fear and panic threatening to take over her numbed mind. How had they found them? How did they know they’d be on that road? Damn it! Why hadn’t she listened to her instincts? Her stomach tightened as she came to terms with this grim predicament.

“Hello McCoy,” Bland cooed in a controlled, concise tone. “Thought you could outrun us, did you? Well, this is our country and we have friends where you wouldn’t believe. Breaking out was the biggest mistake of your life, and then to kill the sheik’s best girl, well...that was probably your second biggest mistake. He is very, very upset with you.”

Bland stared scornfully down at her prisoner, mocking her. Her tone was gloating yet at the same time had a reprimanding quality, like that of a mother trying to explain to a child why she shouldn’t have been so naughty, just before the punishment begins.

The detective met her gaze without a hint of her struggling emotions. Fighting to remain calm, she battled to contain the shock. But something wasn’t right. She couldn’t believe how calm this usually loud, intimidating and oversized monster seemed. She was almost too calm. Billie lay motionless, taking it in without a word, meeting Bland’s unfriendly eyes impassively, offering no response to feed her gloating triumph.

The dark eyes abruptly narrowed. The big woman’s voice hardened. She spat out her next words. “You made us out to look like fools and for that, I’m going to make you wish you were dead!”

With anger and hate now driving through her initial shock, Billie suddenly reacted. She leant up and grabbed Bland’s shirt in her cuffed hands with all intentions of pushing her back out of her face. She’d heard enough of her shit and was tired of her ugly features eyeballing her. Before she could proceed with the plan, a pistol appeared centimetres from her head. Billie froze. Her eyes jumped to the .38. The small dark hole of the barrel stared her directly in the face. Reluctantly she looked back into Bland’s savage eyes. The twisted grimace was still implanted across her ugly features.

“You think I’m that stupid?” the big woman sneered. The cold heartless eyes burned into the detective’s, daring her to try something further. “You have a lot to answer for and if you want to start now, go ahead.”

For a long moment the two simply stared at each other, calling the other’s bluff. Unfortunately Billie knew Bland had the upper hand. She was helpless to do anything to stop her, not while she had the gun. Slowly she let go of the shirt and sank back to the floor, letting her head rest on the hard boards. It would be crazy to try anything. Bland was itching to lay into her, prepared to do anything to keep her in line. Why give her the excuse.

“That was a dirty trick with the kid,” she said with distaste.

“It worked though didn’t it?” Bland replied. Her sneer softened to a smug smile. “We certainly got want we wanted.”

Billie didn’t answer. The last thing she wanted was to feed Bland’s sick twisted mind with any more conquest.

Bland rested the gun under the cop’s chin then went on in a quiet sadistic voice, purposely slowing the words to emphasise them. “Seems you’ve been quite busy since you left us. When we called in to ask our friend Sergeant Wilford if he’d seen you, we were shocked to hear he was dead. My! We couldn’t believe what you’d been up to! And killing poor Kalib was near on as bad,” she scolded in a singsong tone, staring down at the prisoner without blinking.

Billie couldn’t deny she was surprised Bland was so informed. She knew Wilford? God. Obviously she knew a few others as well to be so up to date about him and Kalib.

Soon after arriving in his rundown pathetic town, Sergeant Wilford had thrown Billie and the girls in a cell on false charges, then forced the detective to fight a brawny Aboriginal called Kalib. Both opponents had been armed with a spear tied to their wrists; it had been a vicious battle. This was where she’d received her wounds.

As big as the shock was, no way was she about to let her see it affected her. She hid her feelings so well that Bland didn’t even notice her dismay.

“The whole town is in mourning and is still very, very mad at you. What a pity we can’t hand you back to them, to let them have their revenge.”

“I should’ve known Wilford was tied up with you. He was just as sick and demented as you are,” the detective quietly stated. Bland smiled.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Unhurriedly she shifted her weight, sitting back off the detective without altering the position of the pistol. “You know, they told us all about the fight and how you’d picked up some new injuries.”

Now the gun moved. Slowly it traced down Billie’s left arm, for a moment resting lightly on her wound. Bland watched for a reaction. When there was none, she pressed harder.

As hard as she tried, the detective couldn’t stop herself from wincing.

Bland smiled and moved the gun on, tracking it downwards towards her thigh. “You have to look after yourself now that you belong to the sheik. Maybe that little point simply slipped your mind. He is awfully anxious to have you back, you know.”

The gun came to rest on her wounded thigh. The whole time Bland watched her prisoner, looking for any sign of discomfort. It took all Billie’s concentration to stop herself showing any reaction to this tormenting treatment. When Bland pressed harder on her cut, again she sucked in a slight breath. Damn her. She must have been filled in on every detail of the fight. This bitch knew exactly where her wounds were.

The big woman smiled, happy with the results. “I’m afraid you’ve upset him though,” she went on, easing the pressure off the cop’s leg. “Umm, very much so. You see, killing his girl was almost enough to shatter him, but then again, I’m sure you’ll be able to make it up to him,” she cooed innocently. Before the detective could make a comment, Bland lifted the pistol and rammed the butt hard into her cut ribs.

Billie cried out with an agonising gasp. Rolling over onto her side, she curled up with her eyes shut tightly, panting hard against the excruciating pain threatening to make her pass out. Every breath came in grunts as she fought the agonising pain. The blow was hard enough without the added discomfort of a major cut across her ribs.

“Oooh, silly me,” Bland apologised superficially, sadistically watching her prisoner. A smile returned to her lips. “I didn’t realise you were so sore.”

Billie didn’t hear her; she was in too much agony. The fight with Kalib had almost cost her life, and even though she’d won, it had left her with these three wounds, the one across her ribs quite severe.

Bland gave a short laugh and stood up, maintaining a steady gaze on the girl at her feet. Revenge was so sweet, and fun. Yes, she could take as much of this as she could get. With a contented sigh, she lifted her eyes off Billie and looked around at the others. They were all good lookers, that’s why Bates had chosen them.

Sarah Jones lay closest to McCoy. A tall girl, her black hair was cut short, layered around her head and fine facial features. Clear skin, thin lips and a small nose set off her attractive features.

To her left was Casey Reynolds, a blonde with thick cropped hair falling just above the shoulders. With a long fringe, the wild untamed cut had a natural wave and bounce. The lightly tanned face carried a cute nose and full lips, highlighted by prominent dimples in her cheeks. Beneath the baby-faced features, green eyes rested under the relaxed eyelids.

Jane Walker lay beside her. She had the appearance of a ‘girl next door’, a guileless look that bathed her in innocence. At the same time, she possessed a subtle beauty to catch any man’s eye. Thick, brown, shoulder-length hair enhanced her long yet dainty face. The button nose and mouth were complemented by a clean, fresh complexion and long eyelashes protected her closed eyes.

Jones was beginning to stir. Her head rolled slowly to the side. The smile sprang back to Bland’s lips. Good, just in time. She turned her gaze back to the detective and sighed again.

“I would so much like to go to town on you, McCoy, but unfortunately I’ve had orders to lay off. After all, we have sold you and the sheik does want you back in one piece. Pity.”

Billie lay gasping with each breath. Bland lingering in the background helped to stir her reserves, to find the strength she desperately needed to override the pain. Already it was easing, enough to distantly register the words. Forcing open her eyes, she briefly looked up at the woman looming above. She had no strength for anything else, not yet.

The small action told Bland she was listening. She continued. “But as for this lot...” Turning, she ambled over to where Sarah lay dazedly fighting her way back to consciousness. Keeping her eyes fixed on the cop to watch her reaction, she couldn’t stop the grin springing to her lips. “Well...it’s open slather.”

Without glancing down at Sarah, Bland cruelly kicked her in her unprotected stomach. Barely awake, Sarah didn’t register her enemy towering above her, or see the foot coming. She cried out, curling up in pain, struggling to deal with the unexpected attack.

Billie watched in shock. Sarah was in big trouble. Bland was definitely here to cause misery, to throw her weight around, no matter who got hurt. Somehow the detective found the strength to rise above her own suffering. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up, rolling onto her knees. Severe burning shot across her wounded side. She gasped, desperately trying to ignore it. A glance at Sarah inspired her to keep going. With her cuffed hands supporting her tender ribs, she awkwardly sat up. A new surge of agony rushed through her ribs, enough to draw another cry from her lips. After such an effort, she felt dangerously weak. Breathing heavily, she leant forward to help ease the throbbing coming in waves. Determinedly she refused to give in. Somehow she had to stop this bitch. Jones’ life could depend on it.

Her eyes burned into Bland. She was slowly walking around Sarah, looking down at her with a sour smile.

“W...what the hell d…do you w…want, Bland?” Billie gasped.

The big woman’s gaze returned to her. The smile broadened. “Why, whatever do you mean?” she asked innocently. With her eyes locked on the cop, she kicked Jones again, this time in her lower back. A sharp cry left Sarah’s lips. She arched her back in pain. Every breath rasped through the tortured girl’s lips.

Jane and Casey were beginning to wake now. Their minds stirred, sluggishly floating back through the fatigued darkness. Still too lethargic to comprehend anything other than fighting the drug, they had no idea what awaited them.

“Leave her a…alone!” Billie demanded, terrified this bitch wasn’t going to stop. Having kept up her slow walk, Bland was now back around in front of her helpless victim. She shot Billie a cold stare. Her face hardened in irritation.

“Are you telling me what to do, McCoy?” she spat through clenched teeth, kicking Sarah a third time. This one buried into her ribs. Sarah cried out in anguish. Trying to protect herself, she curled up tightly, her breathing coming in short painful groans.

Billie was at her wit’s end. Raising her eyes heavy with worry from her friend, she stared hard at Bland, their eyes locking on each other challengingly. The smug look was back on the big woman’s face, demanding an answer. Billie felt the hatred wash through her. It gave her strength – not only strength but a clearer outlook to the problem at hand. The impact was enough to suddenly change her way of thinking. This wasn’t working; it wasn’t the right approach. Her demands were getting her nowhere. Bland only wanted to hear her beg, plead and grovel for her to stop, and until she heard that, she wouldn’t let up on Jones. And this crazy woman could easily kill her if she wanted to, it was in her nature. Billie inwardly prayed the greedy side to this cruel over-sized freak would hold her off. Sarah wasn’t worth anything to them if she was dead.

“No,” the detective quietly stated in response to the question. Backing off, she forced her tone to remain calm. “Just let her be, okay? If you k…kill her, you’ve b…blown a few grand, right?”

Bland slowly smiled. She gave a slight shrug. “Sometimes sacrifices have to be made.”

Billie tensed at the cold calculating words. God, had she left it too late to succumb to her wishes? Was Jones’ life worth nothing?

An evil twisted smile lit up Bland’s face as she sinisterly watched the smartarse cop. She knew her statement had unsettled her. Yes, this was McCoy’s biggest flaw – she was too soft when it came to the quality of life, even with these pathetic lowlifes. For Bland it was a bonus, a lever to control this nuisance of a cop. She could keep her well under control through these girls. McCoy couldn’t go against her, not unless she wanted them dead.

Bland held the steady stare, happy to let her sweat. McCoy would be trying to guess whether her friend was going to live or die. Yes, she, Mrs Bland, held the power here and boy, did she love to enforce it. This cop was now putty in her hands, to do as she was told without any argument and the sooner she got it into her head there was no defying her, the better.

The big woman frowned. “Okay McCoy, this time I’ll let her off but remember this. If you give me a hard time, just one little ounce of trouble, I won’t stop next time,” she threatened. “Do you understand?”

Billie met her eye. “Yes.”

“Good.” With no more to say, Bland turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her. Billie watched her leave, holding down her hatred. She almost felt sick.

“Damn you Bland,” she spat, throwing a glance over to where Sarah lie gasping in pain. Her eyes were closed tightly, her face twisted in agony. Her knees were tucked in close under her chin, her hands clasping her stomach in an effort to ease the suffering. As much as she wanted to help her, Billie knew there was nothing she could do. She turned her attention to Jane and Casey. They were waking. She watched as their eyes lazily opened, only now beginning to register their surroundings.

That was all the time she could give them. Billie couldn’t hold back her own pain any longer. It washed through her persistently. Slowly she lowered her head down over her knees onto the old wooden floor. She’d tried to cover her discomfort in Bland’s presence as much as possible but now with her gone, the flood of agony came rushing upon her the minute she let her defences down. No way had she wanted Bland to see how bad she really was. Her weakness was the big woman’s strength, and that was the last thing she wanted to give her. The cover-up had worked to some extent, until now. With her wound throbbing relentlessly, she fell onto her side and closed her eyes, trying to relax her aching body. It took all her concentration to focus her mind on a practised yoga technique that would help lift her beyond the gruelling pain.

Casey stiffly sat up and looked around, shock written over her face. What had happened? How did she come to be in a hut? More to the point, whose hut was it? Trying to remember exactly what had happened, it came back slowly, though not with much sense. She remembered the boy hurt on the road, then McCoy and Sarah in trouble, then…nothing. Bewildered, she cast another gaze around the small room, searching for hints.

The three girls were with her. To her right, Jane was coming around. To the left, Sarah lay curled up in a lot of pain, rasping. Across the room, McCoy also lay on her side breathing hard nursing her ribs. Casey couldn’t work it out. Who had done this to them, and why? She shifted her position and heard the rattle of a chain. Her gaze dropped. Only now did she realise she was cuffed and chained to the floor. Her head shot up. She checked the others. Everyone was secured the same way. She felt her nerves tense. This wasn’t good. Refusing to believe the worst, she fought back the panic threatening to swallow her.

Jane numbly sat up and took in the scene with some horror. “What’s going on? Where are we?” she breathed. What had happened to the boy? How had they got here and why were they cuffed? Surely it couldn’t mean they were back in the hands of Bates? Fear gripped her. As much as the evidence pointed that way, she found it too hard to come to terms with. Anxiously she looked around again.

Casey briefly met her eye after her confused questions but had no answers to give. Although worried about their predicament just as much as Jane, her greater concern at the moment was Sarah. Seeing her lying beside her in agony tore her apart. She crawled as close as possible before the chain pulled her up.

“Sarah? Sarah, what is it?” she called. “What’s wrong?”

Sarah was in too much pain to hear her let alone answer. Casey glanced at the stunned Jane beside her then directed her gaze over to Billie.

“McCoy? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” she gasped without opening her eyes.

“What happened to you two?”

“B…Bland.” It was all she could get out but it was enough – she didn’t need to say any more.

Both girls froze. They stared fixedly at her, suddenly gripped by an icy dread. Their worst fears had been confirmed. Slowly they turned to each other, reading the alarm in the other’s eyes, desperately searching for some support to keep it at bay. The fact their two friends were in so much pain drove home just how much trouble they were in. It frightened them immensely, especially knowing Bland was back on the scene, and by the looks of it, she wasn’t in a good mood.

Jane shook her head in disbelief. She was dumbstruck. “But…how?”

Casey was just as lost. Her voice was quiet and frightened. “I don’t know but they were definitely waiting for us.”

Jane felt sick inside at the words. She was right. Bates had set a trap and they’d walked straight into it. How could this have happened? Especially after so long! She returned her gaze to Billie, forcing her own worries to the side by diverting her concerns to the cop.

“Billie, are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s easing,” she replied with more strength. Jane numbly looked back at Casey, finding it hard to breathe. The knots in her stomach were so tight that her chest hurt from lack of oxygen.

“I don’t get it. How could they have found us? How did they know we’d be coming along that road?” She was trying to comprehend everything through her shock and growing fears. They were prisoners again, back under the reign of Bates and that oversized cruel bitch Bland. All their efforts to gain their freedom had gone up in a cloud of smoke. The nightmare was starting all over again. God, would it ever end?

“I don’t know,” Casey said, her voice full of despair. “But somehow he did. God, we were almost out of here! It’s not fair!”

Billie opened her eyes and looked over. The hopelessness and anguish in their voices was far too evident, enough to draw her attention to them. These girls needed an explanation to stop their distress, to help them come to terms with this.

“They…knew…Wilford. The others filled them in. Th...they’d probably been waiting a few days for us.”

Both girls shot her wide stares, silently taking in her answer. It was an answer they definitely didn’t want to know about.

“Shit!” Casey spat, throwing herself back on her haunches and gripping her head tightly with her cuffed hands to stop the words sinking in. She didn’t want to believe this was happening. The horror was invading her, flooding her mind with a wave of lost hope. It was all over. They’d had their chance and blown it.

“Well that’s just great, isn’t it? God, why couldn’t they simply let us go, damn it!”

Billie worriedly watched her, hearing the anguish in her voice, yet, as much as she wanted to ease her distress, to say something to help console her, nothing could come close. Her heart went out to her. She had every right to be upset. There was no denying it was a big hurdle to get over but hopefully once the shock settled, she would get over it and then be free to think positively.

Leaving her to deal with it in her way, Billie rolled onto her knees and carefully knelt up. A small cry left her lips even after moving so slowly. She sank back on her heels, riding the pain with short shallow breaths.

“I take it Bland’s still pretty upset with you?” Jane asked quietly, watching her. Billie looked across at her, then to Sarah. She was still gasping in pain, unaware of what was going on around her.

“She knows she can’t touch me, I’m already sold. That’s why Sarah copped it. It’s her sick way of getting at me.”

Jane and Casey both stared in silence, letting the true meaning sink in. That sick bitch had made McCoy watch a friend take a beating, knowing she couldn’t do anything to stop her. God, not only was it sick it was cowardly but this was typical of Bland’s law, all one-sided…her side.

Billie returned her gaze to the two listening girls. She gave them the rest of Bland’s ultimatum. “If I play up, she takes it out on you three.”

Except for Jones fighting to catch a breath, there wasn’t a sound in the room. Jane shook her head in bewilderment.

“Oh really! Well if she can’t touch you, then why are you in so much pain?” she questioned with a touch of anger creeping into her voice. It wasn’t that she was mad at the cop, she just felt so irate at Bland for her cruel ways. It wasn’t fair!

Billie looked at her but before she could answer, Sarah gasped from the floor. “McCoy? W...was that B...Bland who c…caved my ribs in?”

Everyone turned to her. Although curled up in pain, her eyes were now open and looking across at the detective. Slowly Billie gave a small nod.

“Yes.”

“Sarah, are you all right?” Casey anxiously asked, crawling back to the full length of the chain towards her. Worriedly she looked her over. Sarah gingerly rolled up onto her knees and sat up nursing her sensitive stomach. Her breathing came fast and hard. She threw Casey a glance and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll do.” Then she registered the restriction on her hands. Looking down, she realised she was cuffed. Handcuffed? Bland? Now the jigsaw was coming together. Numbly she stared at her wrists, battling to keep her fears in check. God, she thought she’d been mistaken, prayed she’d been mistaken. The very same questions the girls had contemplated shot through her mind. How the hell had Bates found them? It almost seemed impossible.

Then a cold thought struck her, freezing her to the spot. Above the waves of throbbing in her ribs and back, and even above the feeling of crushing dismay slowly tightening its grasp around her, above everything else threatening to cave in her world, she suddenly remembered McCoy’s warning just before they’d climbed out of the van. Her head shot up. She stared directly at the cop, her brow tensed in a reflective frown.

Billie sat watching her, and like Jane and Casey, was only concerned about her welfare. But now with Sarah’s gaze set on her so intently, she felt surprise. What had she done to deserve such an accusing stare? Her eyes narrowed in thought. Something was definitely bothering this girl, but what?

Sarah ignored the look. Too busy calculating her own conclusions, she used the silence to piece things together. McCoy had known something was wrong, and being as pigheaded as she was, Sarah had knocked her for it. God, why hadn’t she listened?

“You knew,” she said quietly to the watching cop, “you knew s…something was wrong when we f…first stopped at the boy, didn’t you?”

The words stunned Billie. That’s what this was about? That feeling she’d had in the back of the van? She recalled the conversation, remembering how Sarah and she had dismissed it. Hell, she could understand where Jones was coming from. Even she’d cursed herself for not listening to her instincts when she’d first woken. At the time it hadn’t seemed to warrant enough significance, not under the circumstances, but now it was an entirely different matter. How could they put it in perspective? In hindsight things always seemed clear and easy.

Not sure if Jones was passing blame her way, Billie found herself on the defensive. “I didn’t know for sure.”

“But…you…knew something wasn’t right, d…didn’t you?” Sarah insisted through her distress. Billie held her gaze absorbedly, studying her resolute face plagued with twinges of pain. Jones wanted an answer right or wrong – not just an answer but the truth. Blame wasn’t the issue here.

The detective glanced at Jane and Casey. They looked baffled, having no idea what Sarah was on about, which was understandable. They hadn’t been there at the time so had missed the discussion, and with the mood Sarah was in now, weren’t game to come into it.

Billie sighed and looked back at Jones. “Like I said, I had a bad feeling. I wasn’t expecting anything like this.”

“It doesn’t matter. You s…still knew something was wrong,” she maintained firmly. “Had we listened, maybe we could have prevented this.”

Billie shrugged half-heartedly. Sarah had a point but it was too late now that it had happened. “Maybe. Then again, maybe not. With the trap Bates had set, it was pretty much foolproof.”

Sarah slowly nodded. “It still may have given us a b…better chance than we h…had, right?”

Billie’s steady gaze didn’t alter. She was trying to understand where Jones was going with this. Her persistent questions seemed frivolous. “Sarah, I really…”

“Yes or no?”

Again Billie hesitated, and again she considered the question. She nodded. “Possibly I guess, a small chance but I doubt if...”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” she cut in over the top of her. Billie stopped, watching her carefully. It wasn’t worth pushing. What was done was done.

Sarah looked away from the blue eyes and lowered her head. With these thoughts racing through her mind, she felt even more miserable. Any chance was better than no chance. The small chance they’d had, they’d tossed it carelessly to the side instead of putting it to good use. If only she’d paid more attention to McCoy, or encouraged her to act on it. Damn it, maybe they could have prevented this. Now they’d never know. Feeling somewhat settled now that she had it off her chest, her hurts rudely intervened. She focused on dealing with the pain burning in her stomach.

Billie exhaled. Rolling off her knees, she dragged herself back to the wall and leant against it, stretching her legs out in front of her. Resting her head back on the rough timber logs, she closed her eyes, trying to relax. Now that the pain had eased and her mind had cleared, she took the time to think. Hindsight could be a real guilt tripper all right. Sarah did have a good point. Was she right in what she’d said? Could they have done something to prevent their capture? She couldn’t be sure. If she hadn’t have been so complacent and listened to her instincts, then maybe she could have been more prepared. Then again, Bates had such a fail-safe trap set, who was to say she would have sprung it anyway. How could she have contended against a dart gun? The moment she’d stepped out of the van, he’d had her in his sights. On the other hand, they could have just driven away and left the hurt boy unattended on the side of the road on the whim of an idea that something wasn’t right. No matter how she looked at it, it painted a bleak picture.

Casey sighed in frustration. Satisfied Sarah was okay, she sat back pondering what Sarah and McCoy had been on about. Whatever it was, they seemed to have sorted it out. Her thoughts refocused on their immediate troubles. With anxiety closing in on her again, she felt her nerves tense. Frustration and apprehension already had a firm hold. No matter which way she looked at it, the future looked grim. There just seemed to be no way out.

“God, they’ve got us this time. No way will they let us out of their sight,” she solemnly stated, more to herself. “I can’t believe it.”

Jane looked at her. “Hey come on, we’ve broken away before, we can do it again,” she consoled her, somewhat hesitantly. Even she had to admit things didn’t look good. Nonetheless, she made the effort to force the optimism into her voice to cheer Casey up. It didn’t work.

“No, not this time. They’ll be expecting it. We’ve got no chance!” the girl sourly spat before she could stop herself. Her fears and misgivings had finally taken charge, sending her into a depressed state of defeat.

“There’s always a chance,” Billie said, throwing her a casual glance. The negativity in this girl was too strong for her liking. The fact she had good reason was beside the point, and sitting here in chains didn’t help matters either. However, regardless of the circumstances, Casey badly needed some faith restored before it ate her away. She had to keep her hopes up. In turn it would keep her will to survive alive.

Little did Billie realise Casey was already too blinded by the dismal conditions to take any heed of her friends’ efforts to cheer her up. If anything, it stirred her up.

“The hell there is! They are not going to give us up even if we do manage to get away! They’ll follow us again, follow us right into Pitt Street if they have to just so we don’t blab our story and blow Bates’ cover!”

Billie raised her head off the wall and looked her straight in the eye. “So we’ll just have to be extra careful, won’t we? Come on, don’t give up yet, you never know what’s ahead. I thought you’d appreciate that by now after what we’ve been through.”

“Ha!” Sarah blurted, the sarcasm strong in that one little scoff. With her strength returning, so was her begrudging pessimism. Casey’s words fed her despair, rekindling a negative outlook with no room for any kind of hope or redemption. It washed away any faith McCoy had to offer. “The great cop’s philosophy.”

Billie’s eyes shot to her. Instantly she recognised the bitter tone that so regularly reared its ugly head at her. Disappointed Jones had turned on her so readily, she watched her awkwardly drag herself back to the wall holding her sore ribs.

Sarah fell into it with a gasp, closing her eyes against the pain. Even with her suffering, she was determined to put in her piece. “Casey’s right. This time they’ll be on our backs the whole time.”

Billie refused to give in to her rising scepticism. Resolutely she kept up her argument. “That still doesn’t mean we should throw in the towel and let them have everything their own way. There is always a way out if you look hard enough. We’ve proven that in the past.”

“Bullshit! Not this time!” Sarah snapped, shooting her a stern look. Feeling sore and sorry for herself, she was in no mood to hear any arguments, especially when they were near on impossible to achieve.

Before the detective could answer, the door opened, catching everyone’s attention. Billie dragged her gaze from Jones and rested her head back against the wall, fighting down her frustration. She had to keep the girls’ spirits up or they would lose out. Once hope was gone, so was everything else. Angrily she pushed these thoughts to the side and focused her attention on the opened door and the visitors who were entering.

Bates and three men walked in. In his late fifties, Captain Bates, chief of Missing Persons, Sydney Police, carried the same confident air Bland had. Short and plump, his rounded beach ball face was clean-shaven. Almost bald, a thin strip of grey-flecked hair running around the lower part of his head from ear to ear was all he had left. As usual his clothes were bright and contrasting.

The man beside him was as round as he was, with a beard and a full crop of hair pulled back in a short ponytail.

The two men standing like dogs on a leash behind him had to be the hired help, brought in merely to keep an eye on things. Scruffy looking with lean builds, they were dressed in faded jeans and T-shirts stained with dirt and grime. The stubble on their faces and lust in their eyes only supplemented their feral appearance.

The party stood just inside the door looking the girls over enthusiastically. Bates carelessly cast a glance at his prisoners, making sure they were all still bound securely. He couldn’t hold back the small smile tugging on his lips while checking his assets. His victory had left him on a high. The worry of finding and snaring these girls was now gone, leaving him in a state of contentment and self-satisfaction. It had been a long hard run and he was glad it was finished.

The girls gazed back blankly, scarcely giving the other three a look. Their hatred was for this man, and it had grown in intensity.

Bates hardly noticed, or cared. As usual, his little plan had worked to perfection. It had well been worth lying low in the scrub for the past few days.

“Well, I hope we have all recovered,” he smugly greeted, his eyes roaming over the watching faces. They came to rest on Billie. “We outsmarted you well and truly this time, McCoy.”

Ignoring his gloating sneer, she fought down her disgust. She was already fighting to control her anger after the argument with the girls, and his smart comment only incensed her further.

“You’re such a hero, Bates. It was a sick trick, nothing short of what I’d expect from you.”

Bates sniggered. Calmly he walked closer and bent over her, positioning his face in front of hers. His stare burned fiercely into the watching blue eyes.

“You’d better believe it,” he hissed with venom. “See, you won’t be getting away from me this time, you hear me? I am taking you back one way or the other, by whatever means I have to. You’ve blown your chance of escape for the last time. I’ve had enough of your games and you’ve wasted enough of my time. If I have to keep you drugged all the way back, don’t think I won’t do it. If I have to sacrifice one of your companions to keep you in line, don’t think I won’t do that either. Whatever it takes, I will do it. Are you hearing me, McCoy?”

Billie stared calmly with her mind racing, quickly assessing how serious he was. Could she afford to risk it? Would he go to the extent of sacrificing the girls? Sacrificing his profits? It was hard to say.

Bates chuckled. No comeback this time? Huh, maybe he had her bluffed. Maybe it was all too much for her this time, for all of them. The shock of their capture had hit them hard, eating away at their hopes and defeating their self-will. They couldn’t win against him, he was too smart, too overpowering. He had them right where he wanted and from the looks on their faces, they knew it too. They were his, he’d won. McCoy had to accept that and by the looks of her, his threats had made an indent.

With these happy thoughts on his mind, the boss man straightened up, feeling quite confident he’d put his point across, especially when the cop couldn’t even answer. He took her silence as a ‘yes’. She was hearing him, loudly and clearly.

The thought of Bates believing he was untouchable fired Billie’s emotions – threat or no threat. She found herself acting before she could stop herself. As he straightened up and turned to leave, she hooked her feet around his right ankle, the leg he’d just put his weight on. With all the strength she could muster, she pulled hard with one foot and pushed with the other, cunningly denying him balance. The leg was yanked from under him. It was so unexpected that the boss man was thrown to the floor.

Her unforeseen actions instantly started a chain reaction. All hell broke loose. As far as the men were concerned, this was a premeditated attack and they weren’t about to let her get away with it. It was time for discipline.

In the back of her mind Billie knew she was in a lot of trouble but that was the price she was willing to pay. She’d started this; now she had to finish it.