Michael sat down on the end of his father’s bed. Nigel leant against the pine wall between his and Annabelle’s wardrobes and folded his arms.
“I’m not proud of what I’m about to tell you.”
Michael didn’t know what to say.
Nigel sighed, and looked at the floor. “When I was twenty – back in 2012 – remember I left for a couple of months on a business tour in America.”
“Yeah,” said Michael, “vaguely.”
“It wasn’t a business tour,” said Nigel. He glanced up at Michael, and then looked back at the floor before continuing. “I was involved in an anti government cult. That was back in the Western Coalition’s early days. The business tour was actually a rendezvous to plan acts of sabotage.”
Michael frowned. Nigel had never given the slightest hint that he might have a secret past.
“Someone must have tipped off the authorities, because as soon as the meeting started, soldiers stormed the building. It was carnage. Most of the American and European members were killed. Fortunately us Australians were seated on the other side of the room, and some of us could make an escape.”
Nigel paused and looked Michael in the eye. “Very few of us made it back to Australia though. I was lucky. This scar,” he pulled back his sleeve to reveal a dark red mark. Michael had seen it plenty of times. “Not a chainsaw accident. Gunshot wound.
“I’ve only kept contact with three of my old friends from those days. We haven’t done any more anti-government work since. Earlier today, I got an anonymous g-mail, obviously from a member of the cult, saying that all three of them were killed. I tried contacting them, but there was no reply.”
Michael stared at his father, who shrugged.
“That’s all I know at the moment. They were all in America though. I don’t think there’s an immediate risk to us.”
Michael nodded, but he certainly didn’t plan to risk sleeping tonight.
Nigel stood up. “I’m going up the shed to get your sister. She ought to know too. You go and see if mum needs a hand with dinner.”
“Okay,” said Michael. He followed Nigel through the house to the front door.
Everything went black. The extraction fan yielded to the sound of the easing rain, and Gabriel’s cry; “mummy.”
“Blackout,” said Nigel. “I’ll switch the generator on while I’m up there.”
The door creaked shut. Michael felt his way into his room and found his keys in the light from his laptop screen. He pushed the button on the mini LED torch key ring
Outside he heard the Toyota Hilux drive up the hill to the shed.
Michael walked back into the kitchen where Gabriel clung tightly to his mother’s leg.
“Odd that the power went out now when the storm’s died down,” said Annabelle.
“Odd that the power went out at all,” said Michael. “We haven’t had a blackout in years. Not since the mains powerlines went underground. The fault would have to have been on the above ground spur... On our property...”
A rifle crack boomed through the night.
