Death is Forever

black swan floats/O’er a dead sea’s bones./Stone woman giving me hope,/Secrets blacker than-death/And truth it’s death to speak./ But I will speak to you./Listen to me, child of rue./You will curse the day/As I cursed my queen lady.’”
    The words spoken in a man’s deep voice beneath the vast Australian night sounded very different than those same words read mockingly in an expensive Los Angeles hotel. A shiver of unease rippled through Erin.
    “What had women ever done to him?” she asked.
    Cole’s mouth turned down in a hard smile. “Oh, probably the usual thing.”
    “Which is?”
    “Screwed him over.”
    “From what you’ve said about Abe, being screwed was his idea of a good time.”
    “There’s a world of difference between screwing and being screwed.”
    “I know,” she said bleakly.
    Cole remembered Hans. “Sorry, honey. I wasn’t thinking.” He smiled bitterly. “It’s a pity Hans didn’t meet Wing’s sister. They were made for each other. But Justice is blind and Mercy is an unpredictable whore.”
    Erin wasn’t about to argue that.
    “I don’t know what happened to sour Abe on women,” Cole said. “He never talked about it. Looking at those pictures of yours, it’s probably as simple as two brothers wanting the same woman and only one of them getting her.”
    “Grandmother?”
    He nodded. “After Bridget left, one of Abe’s white neighbors asked him why his brother Nate Windsor had gone to America. Abe worked the man over with a stockman’s whip. If Abe hadn’t been so drunk at the time, he probably would have flayed the poor bastard alive. The same thing happened every time your grandfather was mentioned. Abe went into a murderous rage. After a while, people stopped talking about Nate Windsor’s sudden decision to go to America and started talking about Crazy Abe.”
    The track disintegrated into braided ruts climbing a hill. Cole killed the headlights before they could show over the rise. Bucking, sliding, shuddering, the Rover crabbed uphill. As soon as they were just below the top, he turned off the engine and got out. A few steps brought his head above the rise.
    Down below in a windswept hollow, lights gleamed in the darkness.
    Erin got out and went to stand beside him. “What is it?” she asked softly.
    “The station house.”
    “It looks pretty busy for this early.”
    “During buildup, you get up before dawn if you want to get anything done. It’s too damn hot otherwise.”
    He went back to the Rover, pulled a box of shotgun shells from his kit and dropped a dozen of them into his pocket.
    She watched without a word.
    “I’m going to make sure there aren’t any surprises,” he said softly. “If it’s all right for you to come in, the house lights will flash twice. Give me an hour. If I haven’t signaled by then, get back to Fitzroy Crossing, call your father, and camp with the local police until he arrives.”
    “What about you?”
    “That’s my problem. Staying alive is yours. Whatever happens, don’t come in after me . Once I leave the Rover, I’m assuming that everything that moves out there is an enemy.”
    “Cole—” she began.
    “Promise me you’ll stay here,” he interrupted urgently, leaning toward her. “I could get killed worrying about you.”
    She felt the heat of his breath and the gentle caress of his mouth.
    “Promise me,” he whispered.
    She shivered as the taste of him spread like wine across her tongue. “Yes.”
    The sound was as much a sigh as a word, but he understood. The kiss changed for an instant, becoming less gentle, more consuming. Then he was gone.
    Cole moved silently over the rise and down the slope, using natural cover to conceal his outline. It took him more than half an hour to reach the compound. When he was within ten yards of the house, he crouched near a slender gum and waited.
    Nothing moved. Even the wind was still. From behind the house came the hum of a large generator. On the roof a satellite dish stood ready to receive invisible messages. Another array of electronic gear was nearby, ready to send messages.
    He circled the house at a distance. Two new one-ton pickup trucks were parked in back, gleaming among the rusted carcasses of old Jeeps. Nothing stirred in the darkness except the slow expansion of cigarette smoke giving away the position of a hidden guard. Bypassing the man, Cole eased toward the kitchen window. He’d nearly reached it when the back door opened an arm’s length