Alex Dook’s debut novel, Gunpowder Creek is a cat-and-mouse thriller. Read on for an extract.
ABOUT THE BOOK
‘Mum, please. I need your help. I’ve done something stupid … They’re coming for me.’
Friday, 1.30 pm. Emily Barnes is finishing work for the week, ready for a break from her laptop. Then she receives a panicked voicemail from her son Zach, punctuated by a gunshot.
By four pm, she’s driving a stolen car out of Perth, with explicit instructions from Zach’s captors – in three days, deliver the car to Gunpowder Creek, a ghost town 900 kilometres deep into the West Australian outback. Miss the deadline and Zach dies. And don’t open the boot.
The job should be simple. But there’s someone dangerous roaming those lonely highways. Someone who doesn’t want the car and its cargo to make it to Gunpowder Creek. Someone with cold eyes who has seen death and liked it.
For fans of Adrian McKinty and Will Dean, this cat-and-mouse thriller ignites like the fuse on a stick of dynamite.
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Extract
FOUR
Cindy whistled as she cut the gaffer tape around Emily’s ankles and wrists. Emily tried to remain impassive but a thousand thoughts ran through her mind. What had she just agreed to?
How could she trust them? When she stood, she realised how much her body ached, and almost stumbled over.
Wayne sighed. Here was his saviour. ‘Watch the kid,’ he said to Cindy.
She flashed a wink, enjoying herself. ‘Whatever you say, babe.
You’re the boss.’
‘This way,’ Wayne said. He led Emily across the warehouse to a doorway and waved her through. She looked back at Zach, still slumped forward in his chair, occasionally jolting with silent sobs. Emily fought every impulse coursing through her body to run over to him, comfort him, try and rip apart the ropes binding him so they could get the hell out. Cindy was lounging next to him, one arm over the back of the chair. She gave Emily a little wave.
‘Don’t worry about her,’ Wayne said.
Emily forced the feelings down. Keep cool. Keep cool for Zach.
The next section of the warehouse was cleaner. An unremarkable, dented grey Commodore was in the centre of the vast floor, as if on show.
‘I can make payments,’ Emily said, fighting to keep control of her words. ‘It might take a while, but I can make this right.’
‘Look, just shut up, all right?’ Wayne said. ‘We’ve got some stuff we need to go through if this is going to have a chance in hell of working. Unlock your phone.’ She realised he was holding it out to her. She felt uneasy about giving him access to her phone, but knew if she didn’t go along with it, everything would fall apart. She pressed her thumb to the home screen and unlocked it.
Wayne slipped on a pair of glasses and began fiddling with the phone. She felt the urge to snatch it back, to protest, but she held her tongue.
‘You spoke to the cops but only for sixteen seconds,’ Wayne said as he scrolled through the call register. ‘What did you tell them?’
‘Nothing, I hung up,’ Emily said. ‘I didn’t want them to know about the drugs all over the floor.’
Wayne looked at her over his glasses for a moment. ‘Fair enough.’
‘Please. We can come to an arrangement. Zach’s just a boy.
He screwed up, but we can make this right.’
‘Here’s the deal. I want one thing: the delivery to get made,’ Wayne said. ‘And if you can’t help me, then neither you nor your son are any use to me. So you either do what I tell you or it’s all over right now.’
How did Zach ever get involved with these people? How did it come to this?
‘Okay?’
‘Okay.’
He handed over her phone. ‘Authenticate.’
The screen was prompting her for her fingerprint. She didn’t hesitate.
‘Good,’ Wayne said. ‘You’re going to be doing a lot of driving. Way, way out of the city. It’ll take a few days. Simple enough, but we haven’t worked together before. So, the ground rules: we’re listening in. I just downloaded an app that turns your phone into a homing beacon. The microphone will be on, twenty-four seven. You put one toe out of line, we’ll know about it. And then we’ll kill your boy. Okay?’
Emily’s mouth went dry. ‘Okay.’
‘The app will tell me how much battery life you have. There’s a charger in the car,’ he gestured at the Commodore. ‘If you let the battery run out, we’ll kill your boy. Okay?’
When was someone going to jump out and announce this was all a joke? Zach would walk through the door, laughing, wiping away tears, clapping. But instead all she had was the cold look on Wayne’s face waiting for her.
‘Okay?’ he prompted. ‘Okay.’
‘Okay.’ Wayne turned towards the Commodore. ‘Looks like a piece of shit, but it’s reliable enough. And it doesn’t attract attention. Last thing you’ll need is attention.’ He smacked his hand down on the roof. It clanged like a rusty oil drum. ‘We had it all worked out with Turk, so you should be able to handle it fine. Turk wasn’t the brightest spark.’
She could picture the car crapping out in the middle of nowhere, her frantically trying to get hold of a mechanic so she could keep going to save Zach. ‘Any reason it’s not something a little, um, newer?’
He gave her a look like she’d asked for seat warmers. ‘I didn’t have a lot of time to put this job together, so apologies for not getting you a Tesla.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed. ‘You’ll be delivering the cargo that’s in the boot of this car. Today’s Friday. You need to be at a place called Gunpowder Creek at six a.m. on Monday. That’s roughly 900 kilometres north. A long fucking way away, but simple enough to get there.’ He handed her a sheet of paper. A Google Maps printout of Western Australia, with some scribbled coordinates and a red line drawn in biro snaking up the Great Northern Highway. Through Paynes Find, Mount Magnet and a few other towns she’d heard of but had never given a second thought. About halfway up the massive state, the red line veered left off the highway to the west.
She could picture the car crapping out in the middle of nowhere, her frantically trying to get hold of a mechanic so she could keep going to save Zach.
‘Gunpowder Creek was a mine back in the ’50s,’ Wayne said. ‘Only around for a couple of years before it folded and everyone left.’ He waved his hand, like none of that was important. ‘The point is,’ he continued, ‘it’s signposted but nobody’s out there. Specially at that time of day. Good spot for a handover. So, have this car at Gunpowder Creek at six on Monday morning, or we’ll kill your boy. And by the way, if you don’t complete the job, don’t expect to come back to a warm welcome.’ He flashed a toothy grin. The car was so generic, so normal, like a million others she’d seen cruising along every freeway, highway, suburban street and
back road in Perth.
‘Is the cargo in the boot? What is it?’
‘You don’t need to know. Which reminds me. If you look in the boot, we’ll kill your boy. Trust me, we’ll know.’
‘What if I get pulled over and someone wants to look in there?’
He took a deep breath, clearly trying to temper his irritation. ‘If this cargo isn’t at Gunpowder Creek at six on Monday, we’ll
kill your son. Just keep that in mind, okay? For everything else, use your bloody common sense.’
‘This is so remote,’ Emily said, tapping the map with her finger. ‘My phone won’t have service outside the towns. You won’t be able to listen in or track me when I’m on the road.’
‘The GPS still tracks you.’
‘Um,’ she said, recalling something she’d heard on a tech podcast. ‘It doesn’t work that way. The phone picks up signals from the GPS satellites, but it doesn’t talk back to them. If I’m out of service, my phone knows where it is. But you won’t be able to tell where it is.’
Wayne narrowed his eyes. ‘But when you come back into service, it’ll update me.’
‘Yes, right. But there’ll be plenty of black spots. Just so you know.’
He frowned. He clearly hadn’t thought of this. It was one thing to be playing a high-risk game with someone who was in control. But what if Wayne didn’t have a handle on everything? What if a mistake like this was all it would take for Wayne to come around to Cindy’s point of view: kill her and Zach, and ditch the job?
‘Fine,’ he said. ‘You can’t call the cops when you’re out of service anyway. And when you come back into service, I’ll know if you’ve called anyone.’ He stepped closer to her. ‘Don’t try to fucking outsmart me, okay? Remember, I’ve got your son.’
‘Okay, okay,’ she said. ‘I just want to keep everything clear.’
He sneered. ‘Thanks, very helpful. That reminds me. Your address. We’ll be keeping an eye on where you live. We’ve got all the tech, okay?’
‘For how long?’
‘For as long as it bloody takes,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry. When this shit is over, me and Cindy are out of here. Like, for good.’
She gave him her address and he tapped it into his phone. ‘What happens when I get to Gunpowder Creek?’ She could tell he liked giving her directions.
‘You’ll meet our buyers. Give them the cargo and drive back down to Perth. You get your son back and then fuck off out of my life.’
‘I’ll need proof of life,’ she said. ‘Huh?’
‘When I’m out on the road,’ she said. ‘Proof of life, of Zach. Otherwise, what’s to stop you from –’ she fought to get the words out ‘– killing him as soon as I leave?’
‘Fine. I’ll text through a picture each day.’
‘Okay.’ She knew that didn’t cover things once she’d made the delivery, but it was something. Hopefully once she’d completed the job, they’d see no reason to kill Zach. She searched for more questions, unsure whether it was to clarify things or just delay the inevitable. ‘What if someone calls my phone?’
‘Bluff. Make an excuse. Otherwise . . .’ He trailed off, hands open, prompting her.
‘Otherwise you’ll kill Zach.’
‘Correct,’ he said. He looked her up and down. ‘If I’d known your son was so fucking useless, I never would have brought him in.’
For a moment she wanted to scream in his face that he never should have. That he should have turned Zach away. She guessed he didn’t have kids, but didn’t he at least have a shred of principle? She said nothing. He held out his hand for her to shake. She took hold of it slowly.
‘I know you’re shitting yourself,’ he said, ‘but . . . we’re making the best of a bad situation. You’ll laugh about this one day. Just keep focused on the task and we can all get through this fucking nightmare.’ He checked his watch. ‘It’s getting late. I suggest you get a wriggle on.’
‘Can I – can I see Zach?’
Wayne looked back at the door to the other side of the warehouse for a moment, then back at her. ‘It’s getting late.’
***
Every part of Zach’s body ached. The pain from the kidnapping, the once-over Cindy had given him. But all that was eclipsed by a throbbing horror, a droning noise swimming through his mind.
Mum was going in his place.
‘Bet you’re happy with yourself,’ Cindy said. She was reclining in the chair Zach’s mum had been in, one arm over the back. ‘You fuck up the job, so you get your mum to do it.’
His mouth was still gaffer taped. He knew she wanted him to try and talk through it, just so she could rip it off. He glared at her, then mumbled something. She grinned and ripped it from his mouth. He winced at the pain but tried to hide it.
‘I can still do it,’ Zach said.
‘Christ, speak up,’ Cindy snapped. ‘Pathetic. I can never fucking understand you.’
‘I. Can. Still. Do it.’
‘Bullshit. If you could do it, you’d be doing it.’
‘It wasn’t my fault. Turk was on something. He fumbled it in the apartment.’
‘You know what gets me about you new kids?’ She lit another cigarette. ‘Unreliable. Wouldn’t trust you to feed my goldfish.’
‘Turk was high, the guy got the better of him. I was in the car the whole time.’
‘Bullshit. Turk’s done more time than you’ve been alive …
**********
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alex Dook is a writer based in Perth, Western Australia. His previous writing has been longlisted for the 2019 Fogarty Literary Award and Highly Commended in the 2021 Fogarty Literary Award.
Gunpowder Creek is his first novel.
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