Final Shot | ONC2022

Chapter 13: Final Shots

*** Warning: Physical Violence Ahead ***

I got back to the cabin on dusk. Leo must have got back ages before. I had had to sit and catch my breath a couple of times. It wasn't the steepness of the slope or the distance...it was my own fear that slowed me down. I had plenty of time to think about how little I knew about where we were and how remote it really was. Even if I made it back to the Lyell Highway, the only person likely to find me on the road was Leo, and at least fifty percent of me was certain I'd be safer with anyone other than Leo.

When I finally reached the cabin, I stood in the shadow of the trees and assessed the scene. Leo had dragged the spindly chairs from the cabin out onto the leaf litter under the trees. He'd arranged them around a big, cast iron dish he'd either brought with him or had found somewhere in the bush. There was a small spit set up over the dish and a fire burned merrily in the bowl, as though he were planning a roast.

We hadn't brought anything we could cook that way.

A stick cracked underfoot as I approached and he swivelled to face me. "Ah, Lori. Grab a drink and sit with me a while," he said, smiling as though nothing of any significance had occurred.

I went inside, my eyes scanning the cabin for the knife we'd used to cut bread rolls the day before. I found it inside the esky, with the drinks. I picked it up, evaluating it as a weapon. It had a blunt point and a serrated edge, but it was better than nothing.

Or was it?

I hovered, torn between sliding the knife under my top or just leaving it. Was it some kind of test? Or was I misreading the whole thing? Maybe Leo was just a photographer who couldn't give up a project once he'd started.

But he'd started calling me Lori, and he said he'd never seen anyone else up here. And all those photos of me...they could have been taken by the same person. Even the same camera. It was too much of a coincidence.

I slipped the knife under my top and secured it under my bra strap before plucking a cider from the ice.

Leo had just finished spitting a carcass when I came back out.

"What the hell is that?" I asked, staring at the headless body.

"It's a pademelon," he replied casually. "They're good eating."

"I'm not going to eat a pademelon!"

Leo shrugged. "There's some cheese and salad left in the esky if you want that instead."

"How did you even catch it?" 

Leo smiled, but he didn't reply. I stood, watching his face in the firelight. He looked happy, as though watching a pademelon roast was living his best life. He looked at me and waved toward the other chair.

"Sit down, Lori. I want to show you some of my work."

"My name's Mallory," I corrected him.

"Whatever. Lori's cuter."

He got to his feet and walked to the car, opening the hatch. He pushed the car keys deep into his pocket and heaved out a milk crate, setting it down by the fire. It seemed to be full of books.

Not just books. Photobooks.

He lifted one out, looked at it for a minute and passed it over. It had a plain black cover with the word 'Tori' embossed in silver. I opened the book to the first page.

My blood turned to ice. Victoria Clemes stared out at me. 

I flicked through the images. Bruny Island. Kingston Beach. The Orange Blossom Cafe. And the final shot—the chasm at the top of the mountain I was sitting on. It was just like the final shot of Cecelia.