Tankbread 02 Immortal Read Free Page B

the machete, she took hold of the mooring rope and hacked it from the tree.
    The water next to the skiff erupted as the crocodile, with the stick still buried in his eye, ambushed Else from the water. She swung at it with the machete, burying the heavy blade between the beast’s nostrils. The croc flailed and the skiff danced sideways in the wake of his heaving tail.
    “No!” Else screamed and leapt to right the boat before it was swamped.
    The croc pressed the attack, head slamming from side to side as his jaws snapped at the woman. The stink of blood and the pain in his muzzle sent the croc into a biting frenzy. Desperate to save the baby, Else shoved the skiff out into the river current as the croc lunged at her again. She threw her legs wide to avoid the slamming jaws and scrambled backwards as the massive head slapped down between her thighs.
    Something pulled her up short as she struggled to her feet. A sudden tearing pain flaring between her legs. The croc jerked his head back and Else screamed as the placenta came gushing out of her. The croc snapped its jaws, tossing the umbilical cord he had seized and the attached afterbirth down his throat. Dizzy with pain and loss of blood, Else lifted the machete high over her head with both hands and slammed it down, point first, into the croc’s skull. It died without a sound.
    The skiff spun in the water and was immediately carried out of reach. Else dived, cutting through the water in a fast and desperate stroke, the machete clutched in one hand. She’d taught herself to swim in gentle creeks and still water holes. The flooded river didn’t care how well she swam in still water. It threw her down the riverbed, keeping the skiff and her baby in sight, but too far to reach. The flood rapids buffeted Else and trees swept past her in the darkness. She grabbed hold of a floating log as the last of her strength drained away. “Baby...” she croaked into the black sky.

Chapter 3
     
    Something wet pressed against Else’s face. Her hand punched out and grabbed soft flesh as she jerked awake. She opened her eyes and blinked in the dim light. The Aboriginal man she’d grabbed by the throat made a choking noise and dragged at her hand.
    She sat up, tossing the blanket that covered her aside and realizing she couldn’t see her baby. Her grip remained vise-like on the guy’s trachea. “Where is my baby?” she hissed.
    “Hurgh,” the man said, his hand desperately waving towards the open door of the tent they were in. The tent flap pulled back and a woman, as dark skinned as the man, ducked inside. A baby was cradled in her arms, waving its tiny naked arms and legs. Else sprang to her feet, letting the man go. He fell to his side coughing and gasping. Else threw herself at the woman and snatched the tiny child from her. She examined every inch of the child and then thrust her back at the woman.
    “Found you by the river,” the woman said, her voice and expression calm in the face of Else’s anger. “Her momma died last night and she’s hungry now. Best you feed her, aye? I dried up a long time ago.” The woman chuckled, a deep, warm belly sound. “Get up you lazy fella,” she scolded the man in the tent. The old woman turned and walked outside again. Else snarled and followed her.
    “Where is my baby?” She shouted in the woman’s face.
    “No baby, just you, missus,” the woman said, jigging the little one on her shoulder gently.
    “Where is my baby?!”
    “This can be your baby now.” The old man had come out of the tent and now stood emaciated and hunched behind Else’s shoulder. “Gotta look after the living.”
    “My baby is still alive,” Else snarled, her glare shifting from one to the other. “He’s out there somewhere. If you don’t know where he is, then get the fuck out of my way.”
    The woman shrugged, “How far you think you’re gonna get?” she called as Else strode out across the small encampment.
    “I’ll keep going until I find