Walking down a path, it seemed familiar.
Dust, sand, gravel. The sound of drilling. The whiff of cordite and the clink of opal.
Yuendumu.
She’s in an office, the Interpol office in Venice.
“Inspector Fox, we’ve got a lead on the Cooper Gang. Here.”
Australia. Ayers Rock. Her support unit, a fine band of gorillas, jet off in different directions, searching for signs of the ringtail and his friends.
She heads to the mining town incognito, looking for clues.
Clues overlooked. Signs ignored. The miners here have been lying about their impact on the area. Cooper matters more.
A dark chanting. The hackles on her neck rise, followed by her fur standing on end. It’s not the thrill of the hunt, though she convinces herself it is.
Miners wounded, beaten, and not once does she pay attention to their ‘hallucinations’.
Then it finds her.
Darkness closes in, she can’t breath, the mask is on her face and it won’t come off, she can’t stop the heat, the fury that begins to seep like tar through her thoughts. Her intentions turn procyonicidal.
The heat, the pain, and then a piercing. She can feel the drug coursing through her, and as it does so her grip, the bit of her that still resists, falls asleep wide awake.
Dark energy courses within. Everything shrinks, smaller and smaller, and then she’s throwing dynamite and chasing after trucks. Her own troops return, and attack what they see as a threat. The ringtail prises the horrible thing from one ear, and she can feel the energy begin to seep away, and then it goes from the other, and blissful peace descends over her.
But the mask, illuminated by the rockets hitting it, sinks into the soil. Somehow she’s still attached and as she tries to walk away she drags it behind her on an invisible string.
“It’s here…”
Dust, sand, gravel. The sound of drilling. The whiff of cordite and the clink of opal.
Yuendumu.
She’s in an office, the Interpol office in Venice.
“Inspector Fox, we’ve got a lead on the Cooper Gang. Here.”
Australia. Ayers Rock. Her support unit, a fine band of gorillas, jet off in different directions, searching for signs of the ringtail and his friends.
She heads to the mining town incognito, looking for clues.
Clues overlooked. Signs ignored. The miners here have been lying about their impact on the area. Cooper matters more.
A dark chanting. The hackles on her neck rise, followed by her fur standing on end. It’s not the thrill of the hunt, though she convinces herself it is.
Miners wounded, beaten, and not once does she pay attention to their ‘hallucinations’.
Then it finds her.
Darkness closes in, she can’t breath, the mask is on her face and it won’t come off, she can’t stop the heat, the fury that begins to seep like tar through her thoughts. Her intentions turn procyonicidal.
The heat, the pain, and then a piercing. She can feel the drug coursing through her, and as it does so her grip, the bit of her that still resists, falls asleep wide awake.
Dark energy courses within. Everything shrinks, smaller and smaller, and then she’s throwing dynamite and chasing after trucks. Her own troops return, and attack what they see as a threat. The ringtail prises the horrible thing from one ear, and she can feel the energy begin to seep away, and then it goes from the other, and blissful peace descends over her.
But the mask, illuminated by the rockets hitting it, sinks into the soil. Somehow she’s still attached and as she tries to walk away she drags it behind her on an invisible string.
“It’s here…”