Red Centre by Ansel Gough

anything. For all they knew it was just some underfed
kangaroos, rummaging about the camp.
    Lisa gripped her small flashlight,
contemplating whether she should go out there. A chill ran down her
spine.
    “ Do you have a gun?” Chris
asked, not taking his eyes off the site.
    Lisa looked over at him. “What? Why?”
    Chris looked back at her with concern in his
eyes. His look unnerved her even more.
    Lisa slowly sat back in her seat. Without
warning a gray face flashed outside her window. Her body instantly
stiffened with fear, chills biting all over her body. Chris jumped,
grabbing the dashboard with one hand. The image of that face
instantly burnt into their minds—oversized, black, almond-shaped
eyes; gray, shiny skin. As quickly as it was there, it disappeared
back into the darkness. Only a split second glimpse. Chris and Lisa
weren’t sure what they had just seen, but they were terrified.
    She gripped the flashlight against her
chest, her eyes fixed straight ahead. Like a child terrified of the
dark in her bedroom, she was too scared to look directly out the
window, or to even move.
    Chris reacted quickly, lunging across her to
lock the door. “GO! GO!” He shouted orders at her.
    The large engine turned over. It roared as
Lisa tore backwards in the old four-by-four. She slammed the
brakes, skidding to a stop, punched the accelerator and ripped a
u-turn. Dust and small stones peppered the air as the back tires
skidded in the loose gravel. Her body shook. Chris whipped his head
back to see if he could catch sight of anything back at the site
through the cloud of dust.
    The campsite was soon far behind them.
    “ What was that?” Lisa
gasped. Panicked. She glanced at the rear view mirror, hands
gripping the wheel, knuckles white. “What. The. Hell. Was. That?
Holy shit.”
    The four-by-four bounced over potholes and
small mounds of dirt and rock as it ripped along the sandy road.
Chris quickly secured the seat belt tight around his waist. They
tossed about the cabin. The truck airborne with each mound, the
shock absorbers taking a beating.
    The truck hit a large mound, twisting the
vehicle to its side slightly. It smashed hard on three wheels.
Chris’ head slammed against the window—fortunately not hard enough
to crack the glass, or his head. He grabbed the side of his head to
tend the pain.
    “ Just don’t crash,” he
said through clenched teeth, his eyes on the side mirror. A wake of
dust trailed behind them in the darkness. He looked over at Lisa.
Moist lines from tears streaked her pale cheeks, her eyes still
tense, just like her driving. He reached across, resting his hand
on her shoulder. “It’s okay. You can slow down now.”
    “ I’m not going to stop
until we reach civilization.” She stared straight ahead.
    Chris smiled. “It’s the Northern Territory;
how far are you going to drive?”
    She shot a glare at him, not in the mood for
sarcasm. Her foot eased off the gas slightly. Her eyes drifted to
the rear-view mirror again. The tail lights cast a red glow on the
clouds of dust trailing the four-by-four. Beyond that—the dark,
empty void of night. She had often heard people share stories about
things they had seen out here, like the old couple’s story the
night before: lights in the dark, shapes in the sky, that short of
shit. But this was the first time she had witnessed anything like
this herself.
    Her eyes snapped back to the road, quickly
swerving to dodge a pothole and upcoming mounds.
    Then a slight movement in the rear-view
mirror drew her eyes back. “What the hell was that?” She was sure
something moved in the back of the enclosed truck bed. It took her
a second to process the information, but someone or something was
in the back of the truck!
    “ What?” Chris glanced back
over his shoulder to see what she was looking at. The enclosed bed
made it hard to see. “I don’t see anything.”
    Lisa sat up in her seat, stretching to get a
higher angle from the mirror into the dark