June was right about the ride home – it really was a bitch. Sweat poured off me as I struggled with each burning pedal up the hill. There weren’t any footpaths along the old bitumen road, just dry, yellow grass unevenly meeting the dark, cracked tar. I guess the council was too busy with coronations to put in a sidewalk or cycle lane. Any so-called ‘luxuries’ offered by the Clear Mountain Island website had been stripped away by the beating sun.
My arms wobbled as I guided the green handlebars with sweaty, sticky hands. Every so often, a car would go past. First a Lexus, followed by a few BMWs. They weren’t leaving me much room and I struggled to keep my composure when one drove too close.
I looked up, my helmet bouncing on my forehead – obviously not tight enough – and saw a tall figure crossing to my side of the road up ahead. It was Bruce, Sam’s son from the store earlier. He hadn’t come back inside when he dropped his elderly father back in his ute and I was certain I had scared him off.
Bruce was smiling as he watched me struggle. His hi-vis vest caught the sunlight as he walked. He had a bag thrown over his shoulder, a five o’clock shadow, and a worn, white work helmet under his arm.
I had to stop; my sweaty face was red enough as it was. I walked my bike, until we met halfway.
‘My dad didn’t run you too hard, did he?’ Bruce said.
‘It’s the hill. The heat,’ I managed, out of breath.
‘Yeah, this baby will get you. Newcomers always struggle. You’ll get there eventually.’
‘Here’s hoping.’ I went to move on, pushing my bike beside me.
‘Wait,’ Bruce said, arm extended. I leaned away from him and looked up and down the hill. No one in sight.
‘What?’
‘You got a boyfriend?’
‘Do you?’
‘You know what, Sal. I like you.’ Bruce brushed his hair out of his eyes and laughed.
‘It’s Val.’ A car sped by us, causing dust to fly in my eye.
‘Sure.’
~~~
When I arrived at my grandmother’s house, the sun was setting in the darkening ruby sky. A rumble of thunder sounded. I could just make out the storm coming up over the horizon.
With my backpack swung across one shoulder, I rolled my bike up the uneven brick path, locking it against one of the veranda posts. Despite my best efforts, my mind kept wandering back to my encounter with Bruce. Could the man be any creepier?
I stopped on the first step to the porch. I stood still, all thoughts of Bruce leaving my mind, as I clutched my backpack across my stomach, body tense.
The bee’s nest that had settled on the ceiling of the front veranda had dropped during the day. A few straggler bees remained, but smashed honeycomb coated the way to the front door.
Honey oozed out over the brown porch, sticky and dried hard from the hot summer sun. But what caught my attention was what looked like a footstep – potentially two – stamped in the honey. I took a step closer. There were definitely two footsteps, and maybe even remnants of a few more by our front window.
I heard June’s old Honda pull up in the driveway. She got out, her sunglasses on and a smile on her face, which quickly faded when she saw the beehive on the ground.
‘Oh my God, what happened?’
‘The hive fell.’
‘Well, shit, I can see that.’
‘Do those look like footsteps?’
‘Where?’
‘In the honey?’
June took a step closer. She held her red hair back with one hand, whilst the other held out her phone, the torch feature open and on.
‘I think they are,’ she said calmly.
‘Seriously?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, fuck.’
June searched through her bag for her house keys.
‘No need to get alarmed. I bet it was the postman or a concerned neighbour. It’s a small island. Someone would have seen this and tried to help. I’m surprised no one came to the vet to let me know.’
‘Or, it could be someone scoping the place. It’s a small island – people know Grandma died.’
‘Everybody loved her, Val.’
‘People do stupid shit when they’re desperate.’
‘You’d know,’ June snarked back. I looked at my sister, and her face crumbled in an automatic apology, regretting her words. ‘I’m sorry. I take it back.’
‘Whatever.’ I stepped over the nest, cringing at the thought of a bee sting. ‘You can clean this up, Ms Veterinarian.’
I heard June mumble something in response, but I ignored her. I didn’t have enough energy to defend myself to June. Plus, I really only had one name flashing through my mind. I mean, I’d seen him only moments before – could Bruce have been curious enough to want to see where I lived?
I went to open the front door, but it stuck on the doorjamb. A crisp white envelope stood out against the floorboards. I picked it up and turned it over in my hands. It was unmarked. It must have been slipped under the door.
‘What’s that?’ June asked, poking her head around my shoulder.
I opened the envelope and looked inside. It was empty.
‘What kind of sick joke is this?’ I asked. ‘Someone is trying to freak us out.’
‘Looks like they are succeeding.’ June looked pointedly at me. ‘I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for this. There’s always a reasonable explanation,’ June said, dropping her handbag on the hallway floor. She headed for the hall stand and opened the drawer for the air-conditioner remote.
I looked down at the empty envelope in my hand and shivered, feeling cold for the first time since I got to Clear Mountain Island.
‘Yeah, until there’s not.’
~~~
I woke in a cold sweat. I’d been dreaming that the vines from the backyard were making their way up the side of the house, through my bedroom window and sliding along my body. The last thing I remembered before waking was the feeling of them wrapping tightly around my arms.
The temperature in my room had dropped drastically during the night and for a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was. Head still on the pillow, I looked over to my bedroom window to see the night sky doused in shadow. No vines slipping under the glass. But my arms… even in the dim light of the moon, I could make out the bruises on the inside of my elbows. Puncture marks.
A high-pitched noise caught my attention, like a sharp nail dragging across glass. I sat up in bed, wrapping my arms around myself. The noise pierced the air again and goosebumps freckled my skin. I stood up this time, my feet cold against the floorboards.
A few steps into the dark, I felt something stick to my foot. It was a piece of paper. I lifted it up and saw big, bold handwritten words in black ink on the page. I grabbed my phone and held the light to the page.
THEY ARE WATCHING YOU
I dropped the paper like it was hot in my hand, watching in the darkness as it floated down to the ground.
Clouds Behind the Moon is written by Olivia Hides and will be published serially throughout the year.