The pillowcase back on his head, Forest let himself be led through the house by Davey. By the time he realised he’d been taken into the garage – the stink of petrol in his nostrils – he was being forced down into the boot of a car. The door slammed shut and plunged him into blackness, and he screamed and beat against the inside hopelessly.

They drove for a while, and Forest began to feel his body grow sluggish. Was he suffocating? He couldn’t breathe. He was going to suffocate in the car! What if Davey never took him back out, but simply pushed the car off a cliff? He had to get out of here!

He was able to get the pillowcase to catch on the locking mechanism of the boot and, pulling his head away, managed to get it off. At least now he could see. Light came in around the edges of the boot door, so that meant air could get in. He wouldn’t suffocate.

He whimpered as they went over a bump, and the timbre of the wheels against the road changed. They were on gravel.

They were headed to the shore.

He tried to pull his arms in front of him, but they were too tightly bound.

He was still struggling to loosen his restraints when the car rumbled to a stop.

This is where I die.

The sounds of footsteps outside, the lock turning – breeze and light flooded the boot. Davey, looking like he’d aged ten years, wrenched Forest out. He didn’t seem concerned about Forest having wriggled out of the pillowcase. In fact, he pulled the gag away.

‘Help!’ shouted Forest. ‘Help me!’

Tall eucalypts rose around them, dense scrub. They were deep in bush.

‘No one can hear you,’ said Davey quietly. ‘It’s just you and me.’

‘Please, Davey. Please!’

‘I don’t have a choice,’ said Davey, pulling Forest into the thicket. ‘Neither of us have a choice.’

Forest made himself heavy, letting his feet drag as Davey hauled him along.

‘You’re not a murderer! You’re not, Davey. Think of Kane! What would he think, knowing his dad killed me?’

Davey screwed his eyes shut, his every step crunching in the undergrowth. Insects buzzed and a rosella’s fluting warble rose up somewhere ahead of them. The heat was sticky-close.

Davey pulled Forest inexorably forward.

‘Ivy is Blackbeard. Why? It doesn’t make sense!’ shouted Forest, trying to pull himself free of the big man’s grasp. ‘I refuse to die just because she said so!’

‘You forced her hand,’ said Davey.

‘But why?’ said Forest. ‘Why?’

Davey stopped and threw him to the ground, planting his foot on Forest’s chest.

‘If I tell you, will you stop struggling?’ He looked ghastly pale, nothing like the man in the photos at Ivy’s place.

Forest stopped squirming and simply nodded.

Davey sighed.