Page 52 of The Vanishing Place
Effie flinched as a small hand slipped into hers, and she turned to look at Anya. For years Effie had been fine. She’d been fine. But now her body was thrumming. Here, among the leaves, with the silent kid, the past was taunting her. She squeezed Anya’s hand and nodded at the ground.
This spot’s good.
Effie stopped and pulled a jacket out of her bag and set it down for Anya to sit on. The child looked at it, then at Effie, and sat down. June had packed them sandwiches and snacks. Anya ate the sandwich first, then she picked up an apple. Her eyes widened as her teeth sunk into the fruit. She ate all of it, apart from three black seeds, which Effie shook her head at.
Don’t eat.
Looking back, there had been an exact moment when Anya had changed. It was half an hour into the walk as they crossed through a small clearing, and she had let out a soft whimper, one of relief rather than pain. There had been less anger in her since then, her little body less tense, and she’d started walking closer to Effie. A week ago, the child had appeared from the bush, starving and covered in blood, and yet the closer they got to the hut, the more at ease she seemed. Anya laughed now as she prodded at a fallen tree with a stick. She kicked the end of the log with her heel, and the rotten wood disintegrated under her foot. It was the first time Effie had heard her laugh, and the lightness of it sent a chilldown her spine. Effie hadn’t laughed for months after leaving the bush.
Anya turned, the residue of laughter caught in her eyes, and Effie looked at her, their green eyes just the same. In Koraha, the girl’s feelings had radiated from her: anger, fear, frustration—all the emotions of a caged animal. But here, under the shadow of green, there was something else on her face. The fist in Effie’s stomach clenched. It was the lack of sadness in her eyes that unnerved Effie. A lack of pain. She didn’t know what Anya had run from, but it had to have been more than the quiet calm her gaze conveyed.
Effie stood and started to pack their things, but she paused with the jacket in her hand, and the rucksack fell against her legs. She couldn’t swallow properly. She pressed two fingers into her ribs, pushing hard into bone, trying to stop her body from turning on her.No. Effie held out her hands—strange heavy lumps that didn’t belong to her—and opened and closed her numb fingers.Not now. She hadn’t had a panic attack in years. Effie gulped at the air, but her breaths had reverted to short, shallow gasps. The bush pressed in on every part of her body, squeezing the air from her. Fuck. Effie closed her eyes, trying to slow the frenzied tide of thoughts that pulsed in her skull, and when she opened them again, Anya was staring at her, almost close enough to touch, but not quite. It was as if she was waiting to see what would happen.
Effie bent forward, resting her hands on her thighs. She had to breathe, to focus on the flow of air through her nose. She forced her eyes open and strained her neck to look up. Anya hadn’t moved. She just stood there, watching. Waiting. With nothing in her eyes.
Eventually, the air started to reach Effie’s lungs. The sludge in her head began to clear and she stood up. She took a deep breath, her lungs recovering, but the concrete block in her stomach didn’t ease. Anya should have been sadder, more affected.More something. WhenEffie had escaped the bush, she’d felt everything, as though the skin had been peeled from her body and she’d been rolled in hot embers. And as they neared the hut, it felt like she was being skinned all over again.
Effie rubbed her hands over her face and gave Anya a small smile. But the girl just blinked and turned away. Almost as if she was disappointed.
Effie went to lift her rucksack when she spotted something glinting on top of the log where Anya had been playing. She walked over and picked it up. It was a four-inch hunting knife that June had given Effie. Next to it, four words had been carved into the wood.
Don’t disrespect the Guardian.
Effie frowned and looked up, the hints of rain dripping through the trees, but the girl was already walking ahead. Anya knew the way now.
They were getting closer.
—
Just over two hours later, without having stopped once, they reached the Roaring Billy River. Effie sat and tried to unclip her bag, the clasp jammed, but Anya didn’t stop.
“Wait!” Effie yelled, but Anya kept running.“Stop!”
Effie scrambled to follow her, but by the time she reached the river, Anya was in the water up to her knees. She held her arms out, going deeper with each step. Effie tightened the straps on her rucksack as the swift-flowing water swirled around her ankles. She kept her eyes glued on Anya, who was already at the deepest section in the middle. The current was too strong for her; the kid was too small. And it was deep—the ends of her long red hair were moving in the water. The image of Dad flashed through Effie’s mind, and Aiden’s little head lolling from side to side in the rucksack.
“Anya, wait!”
The river was too fast. It was too high after the rain. One misstep and Anya would be swept away. Within seconds, the river would pour into her, and she would be more water than child. Effie forced her way through the swirling current, the riverbed visible through the clear water.
“Anya!”
But remarkably, Anya started to rise out of the water, and then she was on the other side. Breathing a sigh of relief, Effie fought her way across and rushed into the trees after her. After ten minutes of bush-bashing, she spotted Anya, soaking and dripping and still. Then Effie saw it. The hut. Right there in front of them.
Anya turned and looked at Effie, her clothes clinging to her concave body, and she pointed at the hut.
Go.
Effie set the rucksack down and signaled for her not to move, then she walked toward the timber deck. The hut was smaller than she remembered. Lesser almost.Diminished. But other than its size, it was as if no time had passed. Effie gripped the hunting knife and took a deep breath, then she pushed the door open.
It was the smell that hit her first, like rotting meat and fruit. The smell of death—of something that had once been human. As she stepped inside, holding a hand across her mouth and nose, she saw the body. It was splayed out in the middle of the room, on its back, naked from the waist up, with dried blood crusted across its bare chest.
Effie took a step closer and frowned.
There was something strange about the wound. Unnatural. The two gashes, which had long stopped bleeding, were cut into a mark or a sign. But as she leaned in to get a better look, a scream stole the air from the hut. A terrible, harrowing sound. Effie turned asAnya rushed through the door. She tore through the hut like a wild thing and threw herself onto the floor.
But not next to the body.
Not next to the lump of human.
