I wake on what feels like a concrete floor, my head pounding and my eyes aching. My ribs are sore, and my stomach is tender. I open my eyes slowly, see I have been sick more than once, and then I smell it. I am in a single square room with white walls. It has no windows or cupboards or furniture. There is a door in the corner that is sealed into its frame. The only other things I can see are a water bottle and a piece of rope. There is something dried and flaky on my face, which I guess must be blood. When I look up, I see a rail with stainless-steel hooks on it for hanging carcasses. I vomit again, and it hurts so much I feel like my eyes are going to pop out of their sockets. I look around again at the walls and the door, and guess that this is a cool room. But the room is not cold. The cooling must be turned right up. I remember crashing into Ben at the ramp, and not much else, but I don’t need to. I’m pretty sure I’m at his place, locked in his cool room. Locked away, for whatever reason. He must be piping air in somewhere, because you can suffocate in a room like this. I feel for my phone, but it is gone.

I drag myself across the floor and sit up, my back against the wall, and close my eyes. I force myself to breathe even, regular breaths. Someone will notice I’m missing. Maybe not. Probably not. I don’t stay in contact with anyone, and I don’t have anyone waiting for me. But Ben will have to get rid of my ute somehow, and explain a big dent in his own vehicle. Neither of those things would be easy. He’s probably just keeping me here until he does what he has to with the ashes. When the evidence is removed, he’ll let me go. Who would believe my story anyway? Not Constable Murray. It would only be my preposterous word against Ben’s.

I sleep, and wake. I feel like I have been here for days, but maybe I haven’t. I have no concept of time, and I am starting to lose the concept of me. I think I hear voices outside: Marko; Elaine; Tom; Ian threatening Ben, and demanding my release. They have come to my rescue just in time. But even my foggy brain knows this can’t be true. The insulation in the cool room makes it soundproofed. I could never hear any voices except my own.