Muddy

Still waiting for that darn call. The guy sent me another email asking for the best time, and I had sent him at least one already, so I’m wondering if there’s a problem with my mail getting caught by a spam trap. I created a hotmail addy and sent him a reply via that, so we’ll see. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. I also sent an email to someone looking for a person to write a weekly column for an online woman’s magazine. That would do the trick in adding to my income without my having to move. Again, we’ll see how it goes.

On with the story.

***

"You reckon they can climb, too?" Teddy Johnston eyed the low platform they usually camped on in this region.

"I don’t know what they can do, and I’m not taking any chances. That’s why we’re sleeping in that and not in a bloody tent." Muddy pointed to the pickup truck with a camper in the bed. "And we’re not wandering away from it in case they do come out in the daytime."

Teddy unloaded the trap box and put it on the ground near the platform. He baited it with a live rabbit while Muddy set a second one on the platform itself.

"Tell me again why we’re trying to catch the bastards," Teddy said.

Muddy checked the one-way flap on the trap to make sure it moved easily so the predator could get in but not out again. It also served to keep the rabbit from escaping. "It’s for those Canucks," he said. "They’re researching these bloody buggers. Seems there’s been attacks in a lot of places around the world. They want to learn what they can and what better way than to have a live specimen?" He climbed into the cab of the truck and turned the key.

Teddy joined him, slamming the door twice before the latch caught. "And how do we get the specimens to Canada? There’s rules about shipping live animals."

"I gather if we get some live ones, their bosses will cough up the money for one or both of them to fly down and do whatever they need to do here. The woman said they’re making connection with a researcher in Sydney." He put the truck in gear and it jolted over the uneven ground.

His next destination was the area where the cattle had been killed. He had been torn on whether to  get a backhoe or risk a huge grassfire by burning the carcases. The cost of bringing a backhoe all that way was prohibitive, and fire was more dangerous than beneficial. In the end, he had let nature take its course. Dingos and other scavengers worked their clean-up duties and he suspected the creatures that killed the cattle were part of the tidying crew as well. He hoped to trap some there.

They drove across the rolling terrain in comfortable silence. Muddy and Teddy had known each other long enough that neither felt the need to fill every moment with conversation. A billowing cloud of dust caught Muddy’s eye.

"Over there! Look!" He pointed off to the right.

Teddy leaned forward and looked across Mick. "What the hell is that?" He squinted. "I can’t tell from here."

Muddy turned toward the cloud. "I hope to hell it’s not more of my cows. Running like that can’t be good for them." He stepped on the gas. The truck surged forward and they raced toward the dust cloud.

"It’s roos!" said Teddy. "Is there a fire?"

"Hang on!" The truck lurcked over a particularly rough patch of ground. Both men bounced in their seats. Muddy’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. Teddy clung to the grip on the door and braced his other hand against the roof.

Kangaroos bounded in huge leaps, faster and farther than Muddy had ever seen them do before. They were fleeing from some peril; that much was certain, but there was no sign of fire nor could he see any dingos. A smaller cloud of dust followed in their wake, but it might be the residue of their own trail.

He braked the truck on a small incline where they could look down on the fleeing roos. With a suddenness that startled both men, the rearmost kangaroo faltered and fell. In moments, the downed animal vanished under a moving blanket of black and dark brown shapes.

***

We’ll pick up from this spot next time.