Vanishing Point by Alan Moore Page A

all the ancient words of the Old Testament. The New —’
    â€˜I had me a wife once. She didn’t like livin’ in the bush an’ she upped an’ left. Took her to Perth to buy some clothes an’ stuff.
    When we gets there, she jist turns round an’ tells me, I ain’t sticking ‘round in some godforsaken desert. So she jist walks off and never looked back. That were ‘bout five years ago. Bin on me own since then.’
    â€˜Sorry to hear it,’ responded Katherine. ‘I guess it must’ve been pretty hard for her on her own out in the bush and even harder for you when she left.’
    â€˜Mmm. But if ya make a promise to God, no matter what, like ta love an’ obey, in sickness an’ in health, then, well, it’s jist wrong to jist up an’ leave.’
    â€˜Yes, I suppose it is. Didn’t you talk about where you lived and how hard it could be before you got married?’
    â€˜Oh, yeah. I did. Guess she didn’t get how hard. Mebbe she thought I had money or summit. I did get some when me folks died. Mebbe that’s all what she wanted.’
    The conversation waned. Katherine closed her eyes and thought of how to make contact with Alec in Ceduna. She felt pretty certain he wouldn’t have found help to return to the Kombi yet, so would be happily surprised to find her in town. She’d start searching at the garages. She knew the one he liked from when they passed through on their way north: the Ceduna Roadhouse and Garage.

T he early morning sun behind the Land Rover caused its shadow to fall forwards and the vehicle hummed steadily onward as if trying to catch itself. The road surface became harder with hard lumps of what seemed like limestone, not only making the journey noisier but also causing the vehicle to shudder with every bump.
    â€˜What makes the sparkles on the road?’ Katherine asked in an attempt to steer the conversation to a subject in which she could sensibly participate.
    â€˜Gypsum,’ was the curt answer.
    She realised the conversation had ended and, in any event, the noise made it difficult to continue. So she rested her head back and closed her eyes while firmly holding on to Carolyn.
    She opened her eyes as the vehicle turned right at an intersection. ‘Do you know the Ceduna Roadhouse?’ she asked then realised that the turn had been on to the Eyre Highway. ‘Hey, aren’t we supposed to turn left, there, towards Ceduna?’
    â€˜Yeah, I know that roadhouse.’
    â€˜But aren’t we heading away from Ceduna now?’
    â€˜Yeah, for a bit.’
    It seemed a strange answer and Katherine felt troubled. She held Carolyn a little closer and kept her eyes open. Benjamin was frowning, his eyes cast straight ahead.
    The road was now wide and covered with calcrete. Creamy, tan dust streamed out behind them as they picked up speed. The four-wheel drive travelled a straight course, apart from the occasional dodging of dust-filled potholes. When Benjamin unavoidably hit one the whole vehicle shuddered and complained as fine dust flew up all around it like a miniature explosion.
    â€˜Darned bulldust. Time they fixed this road,’ Benjamin’s complained aloud. The surface of the road was formed from small, white pebbles, nodules of calcrete, that battered metal under the base and mudguards of the vehicle. It made the noise inside the Land Rover even more intense, competing with the roar of the engine.
    The Land Rover kept heading west. Eventually Katherine could contain her anxiety no longer. ‘When do we head to Ceduna? We’ve been going west for ages.’
    â€˜I guess ya’d better know. We ain’t goin’ to Ceduna.’
    â€˜What! Not going? We must. I —’
    Benjamin continued as if Katherine had not interjected. ‘I ‘ad me a vision from God in the night. Showed me he’d sent me a woman ta be me wife, like the Bible