Free Carrier by Vanessa Garden Page A

that the caves Dad had jotted down on his crude map of the area were really there. Then, of course, I would have to trust that those caves weren’t inhabited by Carriers or wild animals.
    I turned around to view my house, almost completely obscured behind fat bushes and salmon barks, and broke out into a run, whispering a ‘thank you’ as I warily passed Alice’s spot, which was marked by a small pile of smooth river stones Mum had stacked there.
    With my eyes and ears wide open, absorbing every shifting shape, every scratching sound, and with my sweaty hand tightly wrapped around my knife, I continued on without looking back until I got a stitch some time later and had to stop for a breather.
    Although the ground was still dry and dusty, thicker, greener shrubs grew in these parts, along with the occasional pale, wiry tree with paper-like bark peeling off the branches and trunks. Desert Downs was no longer in view and this lush greenery told me the waterhole was close.
    I quickened my steps towards a large cluster of trees in the distance — before heading straight into a cloud of mosquitos. Screaming, I started slapping at my arms and legs. A mosquito could feed on a Carrier then pierce my skin and infect me with the disease.
    I ran towards the trees to escape them, bolting flat-tack for several hundred metres until the tinny smell of the water hit my nostrils.
    The humming mosquitoes now behind me, I ceased my slap-dance and stared out across the shimmering water banked by several ancient eucalypts.
    The pool was a dark, shimmering black beneath the shade of the surrounding trees, more beautiful and picturesque than I had ever imagined — better than any water I’d ever seen in a book or photo album.
    In crouch pose, I scoped the area, randomly stabbing at the air behind shrubs and trees with my knife until I was satisfied I was alone. My backpack fell to the ground with a soft thud. Kicking my shoes off, I stretched one foot out and dipped my toes into the water. It was surprisingly warm. I’d never had a bath before. Mum had always made me wash inside with a flannel and a bucket of water, even though she had always bathed beneath the sky in a tub. She’d said it was for my own good. That if a boy or a man came across my young, naked body he might go crazy with lust.
    I smiled at my reflection in the water.
    The cargo pants came off first, then the singlet, both of which I draped onto a low-lying branch by the water’s edge before I waded in.
    My feet slipped around, making me wobble as I moved along the slimy bottom of the pool, inch by inch, careful not to take too great a step should I find myself in over my head. A quarter of the way across, I bent forward and cupped a handful of water and, after sniffing it, wet my lips. It tasted fine — I knew it would, seeing as Mum filled our bottles and canteens with the stuff whenever our well became dry. I drank a handful, and then another, until my thirst diminished. Then I knelt in the water so that it swallowed me right up to my shoulders.
    A long sigh escaped my lips.
    The surrounding trees created a canopy of pale green leaves above, offering the illusion of privacy.
    It was a sanctuary. No wonder Alice had come here. No wonder Mum came here so often. It was heaven. I closed my eyes and sloshed the water around with my arms.
    â€˜Hey, girl, no swimming in the waterhole, this is a drinking one only!’
    I froze, my pulse thudding in my ears.
    My eyes snapped open and rested on a dark shadow reflected in the shimmering surface of the water. The shadow smiled and revealed a row of beaming white teeth.
    â€˜Hey, girl, what’s your name? Get out of the water, silly.’
    I spun around to find a tall, thin girl with dark, shiny skin and long, sun-kissed brown hair staring down at me.
    â€˜Can’t you hear or something? Are you deaf, sister? Get out of our drinking water,’ she said, her brow creasing into a