Outback

All of you. Everyone I thought I could trust. Everyone I loved. You've all betrayed me. You haven't done just that, you've broken me. There's nothing left here for me now. I have no family. Not after what they did. And I have no friends. Not after what you helped happen. If I was a religious man, I'd pray and ask God 'What did I do wrong?' Maybe He could answer me. Never lifted a finger at Sally. Never raised my voice. Rarely showed a temper. She wasn't a DV victim. And my daughter? She walked all over me. I would have died for her.

You took it all. All of you. So you don't get to stand there now and say 'We need to talk'. There is nothing you can ever say to justify helping destroy my life." I took a step forward. "Lucky for you, I'm just about done. Feeling quite suicidal. The only thing that's going to keep me going, each day from now on, is the thought of seeing my daughter again. You've done this to your apparent best mate. Driven him into depression. Dark thoughts of suicide. Doubt you really fucking care."

I took a step forward until I was within inches of him. "Leave now, Michael. Leave. Now. Before I do something I won't regret but will do time for, that will end with you in a hospital bed or in the fucking ground. Because, right now, I really wouldn't care either way. Forget I exist. Because after this, I will forget you, all my supposed friends, my family, none of you will exist in my mind. I'm just going to disappear." I gestured away. "Fuck. Off."

He took a step back before he turned away, Simone following him. Before he disappeared, he did stop and turned back. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not. Another lie on top of all the others."

That was the last time I heard from anyone there.

What I said had me down the cop shop the next day, almost pleading for help to find my daughter. I eventually sat in front of another officer to explain everything. I was pretty much told there was nothing they could do. They suggested I could speak to a lawyer, but if Sally and Katie were out of the country, they were beyond reach and a court wouldn't be able to do a thing. However, seeing I was pretty desperate, they did open a case file and suggested they would do some investigating, letting me know they'd contact if they found anything. I suggested in return they speak to John and the others, giving them a list of names. They might or even would know where she was.

I left the station with no real hope they'd find anything, left believing they didn't really care.

I had no real idea where I was going the day I drove out of Sydney for the final time, eventually crossing the Great Dividing Range and just heading... wherever I wanted. I drove aimlessly for a few days, turning north as the climate grew rather arid, before finally pulling into a place called Longreach.

Knowing I couldn't just keep travelling forever, though I knew I'd get money from the apartment sale within a couple of weeks, I found a hotel to lay my head and wandered to a nearby pub. Standing at the bar, sipping a beer, I certainly looked out of place, though the lady behind the bar gave me the once over. "New in town?"

"Sort of. I'm not really sure what I'm doing."

"Looking for work?"

"Guess so." I sighed. "I really don't know. No plan up here," I added, tapping my temple.

"Like hard work?"

"Yeah. Worked as an engineer. Started out doing manual labour."

"Plenty of farms about, but I know the Macarthur family are looking for a permanent hand or two. If you're willing to work hard, they'll probably take you on."

"Better than wandering aimlessly," I muttered, finishing the beer, "Got directions?"

"Sure, sweetie. Got a sat nav?" Nodding, she wrote down an address for me, sliding over the piece of paper. "Around a half hour drive from here. I'll let them know you're coming so someone is there to meet you."

"Thanks. Appreciate it."

"Before you go, what's your name?"

"Mark. Mark Smith."

"Okay. I'll give them a call now. I'm Dottie, hope you'll become a regular. And that man you want to speak to is Bill Macarthur. He's a good sort."

"Thanks."

I managed a tight grin before I turned and walked out. The hotel was only a short walk away. My ute was a furnace already, so I lowered the windows, put the address into the sat nav, and began the drive to a possible new life.

*****

As she watched the young man walk out of the bar, she couldn't help but sigh. She'd never heard a more monotone voice in her life. He tried to walk upright, shoulders back, but the shoulders suggested the weight of the world on his shoulders. But it was the blue eyes... there was nothing there. No life at all. Just... existence.

Picking up her phone, she dialled the number for the Macarthur resident. "Hello," a male voice answered.

"Hello Bill, it's Dottie."

"Hello, Dottie! How are things?"

"I've just had a young man in here looking for work. I've pointed him in your direction."

"Excellent. We could use another hand or two."

"Just... be careful with this one, Bill. We only had a brief conversation but... I've seen the sort of look in the eyes, on the face of a man. Know what I mean? Lost more than one in the past decade. Good friends. Good men."

She heard the sound of acknowledgement. They'd both lost good friends. "Know much about him?" he finally asked.

"Nothing at all. Just his name. Mark Smith."

*****

William (Bill)

"Young man is on his way, Ely," Bill called out to his wife, Eleanor, though everyone called her Ely.

"New hire?" she called back.

"Might be. Might be. Dottie just called. Said he was in the hotel, looking for work."

"She has a good eye for people," she replied, walking out of the kitchen towards where he stood by the open front door. He glanced to see her wiping her hands on a tea towel, "She tell you much?"

"Just his name and that he... well... I guess we'll find out soon enough."

A ute appeared in the distance a few minutes later, the dust billowing behind it. Another hot, clear day. That was what everyone saw nearly every day in this part of Australia. Rain would sometimes appear, a deluge or two, then months with nary a drop. Still, at least the recent rains had given the countryside some colour. Trees with plenty of green. Lots of grass for the sheep and cattle to feed on. But it was the constant maintenance that Bill would admit he needed help with. His son had left the farm as soon as he could, never wanting to inherit the place. He was now in the city, doing something or other with his life. At least their daughter was doing a university degree that would help them. Bill and Ely would admit running the farm was exhausting, even with the extra help. Their daughter went to university specifically so she was prepared to run it when her parents retired, at least from full-time work.

The ute pulled through the open gate and stopped in front of the house. A man stepped out. He was at least six-two, broad and strong, close to 100kgs if he guessed correctly. Short brown hair. Walking towards them, his blue eyes glanced over them and Bill knew what Dottie meant immediately.

"Mark Smith?"

He nodded. "Yes. You're Bill Macarthur?"

Bill offered his hand, Mark grasping it immediately. "You're right. I'm Bill. This is my wife, Eleanor. Everyone calls her Ely."

Mark offered his hand to her. "Pleasure," he said. Ely took his hand, nodding her head.

"So what brings you all the way out here, Mark?"

"I'm honestly not sure. Looking for a new start, I suppose."

"Where are you from?"

"Sydney."

"And now you're here?"

"It's..." He looked away, glancing into the distance. "It's a long story," he muttered.

"Ever worked on a farm?"

"No. But I have experience in civil engineering. Mostly road-building, that sort of thing. Got a few certificates. Was leading the last project up on the Pacific Highway."

Bill felt his eyebrows raise. "Yet now you're here wanting to work on a farm?"

"Long story," he replied evenly. In fact, there was barely anything to his tone.

Bill shared a glance with Ely. He completely understood what Dottie was saying. "You interested in hearing what the job here involves? See if it interests you?"

"I'll be honest, Bill, I'm probably going to take it regardless. I've been... drifting for a few days. But I've always found that keeping myself occupied with work means I don't have to think. And if I don't have to think, then... well, I'd rather you kept me as busy as possible."

Bill nodded, jerking his head. "Follow me, I'll show you around and explain a few things."

He explained the daily routine of farm work but admitted he was looking for someone to carry out maintenance, whether it be on machinery, buildings, fences or anything else that might need fixing or a little TLC. Mark asked him a few questions at least, which suggested interest, though it was hard to tell if there was any enthusiasm. He explained there were a couple of other enormous farms around, and that Longreach was the only main settlement within an hour of the farm.

Other than that, he gave him the basic salary, which he admitted wasn't great, but that there were small cabins on the farm that he offered to his workers if they didn't have a home close by. He wasn't surprised when Mark asked, if hired, for a cabin, preferably isolated. Bill led him back to his homestead. "When can you start?"

"Monday morning. I've booked a hotel in Longreach for a couple of nights. I can drive up here first light, dump my things, then get started."

Bill nodded. "Very well. Sounds good." He offered his hand, Mark accepting it. "I'll see you Monday morning, say around 9am. Days will usually start earlier than that, but it'll give you time to get here, drop your things..."

"See you then."

He watched the young man walk back to his ute, perform a three-point turn, before he drove south back to Longreach. Walking inside, removing his hat as always, he found his wife in the living room. Taking a seat in his favourite chair, Ely asked, "So?"

"He's interested, starts on Monday. But... Ely..." Her eyes met his. "I've seen this before."

"So we can keep an eye on him."

He sighed. "He's come here to die."

His wife smiled at him. "So we keep an eye on him, Bill. He's not the first young man who's come out this way, looking for answers. Probably won't be the last. Did he give anything away about what happened?"

"No, he was silent except for when answering questions. He was polite. Looks strong so I don't think the work will bother him. But there's a way a man walks, and that short walk back to his ute, just before leaving..."

"Whatever you do, Bill, don't push it. If he doesn't want to talk, let him be. He might need time to open up to us."

"Or we're going to find him dead in the cabin one morning," Bill muttered.

"Have faith, Bill. He's come here looking for work. It would suggest he hasn't given up yet. So we keep him busy, hopefully free from any dark thoughts. If need be, we keep him here, treat him as one of our own. We'd done that enough times as it is."

Mark arrived a little before 9am on Monday, so that was a good sign at least. He didn't have much with him. Just a large backpack full of clothes and a small box. Getting into the passenger seat, he directed Mark to one of the more isolated cabins. It had electricity and running water, but it was rather small otherwise. Just a living room and kitchen area, with a bedroom and small bathroom adjoining.

"I know it's small but..."

"It's perfect for what I need. Thanks."

"Why don't you take a little time to settle in. There are sheets in the cupboard to make the bed. There's already things in the fridge that Ely put in yesterday. You're free to join us for meals, though we understand you might want privacy. Why don't you meet us at the homestead at noon?"

"I will. Thanks."

Mark drove him back to the homestead, though it was only a kilometre or so. Not a long walk, but he thanked Mark for the lift. Watching the ute turn around and head off, he was left wondering what was in the box.

*****

Mark

It was nowhere near as big as the apartment, but it would do. I didn't need much space. I made the bed first before emptying my backpack. I didn't have much with me. I figured quite a few of my clothes would rarely be worn, assuming I was going to need more pairs of jeans, more flannel shirts, and a good pair of boots. And a proper hat.

Then it was the box. A photo frame of Katie and I took pride of place on the mantelpiece. More photos were dotted around both rooms. I took out my laptop and placed that on the small table. I'd have to ask about wireless internet, get that set up. I hadn't given up on finding my daughter, I simply didn't know where to start. I'd think of something, but the globe was a big place. It was a needle in a haystack.

I then sat in silence on the lone couch. There was a small flatscreen television, and a set top box that suggested that I'd get cable television. A couple of shelves where I could put other knick-knacks. Kitchen had everything I needed if I wanted to cook. I'd put toiletries in the small bathroom, hoping the shower was at least half decent.

But all I did was close my eyes, concentrating on my breathing, emptying myself again of any emotion. I was tired of being angry. It got me nowhere and made me feel worse. Same with being upset, in pain, feeling sorry for myself. I'd rather feel nothing than those feelings. So I emptied myself until I felt numb again. I probably verged on looking like a sociopath... or suicidal. Better than the alternative.

That last thing I took from the box was a pistol. I'd bought it one of the rougher areas of the city. One of the guys I'd worked with knew a guy, who had a cousin, who knew a guy, and I met his friend. We did an exchange in the car park of a tavern on the edge of the city, far from prying eyes. I'd watched enough movies and TV shows to know how a pistol operated, able to eject the clip, check it was full, before making sure it was a safe.

"Better not come back on me," he warned. No names had been exchanged, just a location to buy.

"It won't."

"What do you want it for?"

"Putting a bullet in my head."

He met my eyes and slowly nodded. "Well, there are worse ways to go. But... mate, surely..."

I gave him the money, put the pistol in my jacket, and simply walked to my ute. I was partly surprised he didn't call it in, but I'd left within a week anyway.

Placing it on the table, the only reason I hadn't yet was my daughter. But with every day that passed, I was left wondering what was the point of going on if she was... wherever she was. Maybe she was better off with me. Maybe it would just do everyone a favour if I put the barrel in my mouth and pulled the trigger. Clearly no-one was going to miss me. Sure, I'd feel sorry for Bill and Ely having to find me, but as long as I didn't feel the pain, I could go on.

I stood up and put the pistol in the small chest of drawers next to the bed. Out of sight. Out of mind.

But always there, just in case I had enough and wanted to end it.

Driving back to the homestead at noon, I knocked on the front door, Ely opening it with a smile. "Come on in, Mark," she said, giving me a quick tour before leading me to the kitchen, Bill already tucking into a couple of chicken sandwiches. Greeting me with a nod, I sat opposite and was offered a couple of the same sandwiches. Thanking Ely when the plate was placed in front of me, we ate in comfortable silence. I knew I wasn't going to be the most talkative of people, but Ely eventually tempted me.

"So you're from Sydney?" I nodded as I had my mouth full. "You're a long way from home."

"I don't really have a home anymore," I muttered. I noticed the glance between the pair. "Part of that long story. I'll be honest, I'm not really up for sharing it so soon. Give me some time and... maybe... I don't know..."

Ely patted my forearm. "Whenever you're ready, Mark. Just... don't bottle it all up." I nodded again. "So how did you end up here?"

Shrugging, I admitted, "I was just driving around. Left Sydney a few days ago. Was driving aimlessly west, then found a road that told me it went on for a couple of thousand kilometres. So I turned north, ended up here. Felt tired of travelling so figured I could do something useful. Money would come in useful, though I haven't really dipped into savings. Or anything else."

We finished our sandwiches, Bill gesturing with his head to follow him outside. Thanking Ely for the sandwiches, he led me to the barn where he had me do some simple tasks. Asking if I'd ridden a horse before, I said only the once and that I hadn't particularly like it. But, being on a farm, I figured I'd be in a vehicle or on horseback. I didn't mind which.

I had three meals each day with the married couple as I didn't really have a choice. Got to know the others that worked on the farm. No doubt they found me quiet as I didn't offer much information about myself, avoiding any questions about my past. I don't think any of them were suspicious, no doubt believing something bad had happened.

On Saturday, I headed into Longreach to do some shopping. There was one of those discount clothing stores where I could pick up jeans, shirts, boots and other small necessities. Next was a grocery store. Though I appreciated Ely feeding me, my cabin did have a kitchen I could use, and the whole point was solitude. They might think me a little rude, but I was sure the pair would understand I would rather time to myself.

Settling into the daily routine wasn't too difficult. I had breakfast and dinner at my cabin and either had lunch with Ely and Bill or out in the field, depending on where I was working and what I was doing. If I was with the married couple, Ely filled the air with conversation, Bill generally grunting his agreement. She managed to raise a tight grin from me occasionally, but after only a couple of weeks, I was heading back to my cabin for the weekend when she stopped and hugged me.

"You'll find a reason to smile again, Mark," she whispered, looking up from her short stature. She looked sad for me, which then made me feel guilty. I quickly eliminated that feeling too. "Whenever you're ready to talk, Bill and I will be ready for whatever it is."

She let me go and walked back to the kitchen. "You have a family? Sons and daughters?" I asked.

She stopped and turned around. "We do. One son, one daughter."

"See them often?"

"Our son, not so much. The farm was never going to be his life. He was glad to leave. We still love him, he still loves us, but his life was never here and we accept that. He's happy where he is, and still calls us often. As for our daughter, she's completing her studies and should be returning home in a few months. She'll help us run the farm."

"But you love your children?"

"Of course, Mark. Unconditionally and without any expectations on them."

"So you'd never do something so heinous, so diabolically evil, that it would tear their heart out and ruin whatever life they were trying to build for themselves?"

She walked back towards me, meeting my eyes. "Never," she said softly, "We love our children and only want to see them happy."

I had to leave otherwise it was all going to come spilling out, and I wasn't ready for that. Not sure if I'd ever be ready. I simply nodded, turned around and marched to my ute. Left a skid mark in the dirt as I floored the accelerator. Probably got back to the cabin quicker than I'd ever done before. Wouldn't do the ute any good but I knew how to fix the thing anyway.

The cabin was dark, switching on the main light, closing and locking the door behind me. Dumping my pack, the first thing I needed was a hot shower. Hearing Ely's words in my ears again, I didn't know whether to be upset, get angry or simply grieve a life that I could have had. After drying myself off, wrapping a towel around my waist, I grabbed the bottle of bourbon, having picked up a few during grocery shopping, taking a seat on the couch. I turned on the television for background noise as I switched on my laptop. The wireless internet was garbage but good enough.