The Hey

By John Wright

Chris is an odd job man living down on the Peninsula. He receives a mysterious text from his brother, lost in the Outback, saying "There is a dark net of roads out here". At the same, he becomes aware he is being sought by two strange men. Chris heads off into the Outback, in search of his brother. He finds the dark net of roads, but this is only the beginning of journey into a place where the normal rules of logic do not seem to apply.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tablo Publishing
• Release date: Sep 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685835347

John Wright

John Wright is a naturalist and one of Great Britain's leading experts on fungi. His most recent books include A Spotter's Guide to the Countryside and The Forager's Calendar. He lives in Dorset, where he regularly leads forays into nature and goes on long walks across all terrains.

Book preview

2. Travelling

My car picked up speed. The freeway went over the shoulder of Arthur’s Seat, past the turn-off to Dromana, and then curved inland through the vineyards and farms. I kept looking in to my rear-view mirror to see if they were following me. I think their car was white, and it was some pretty ordinary sort of car. Maybe a Ford. Or a Holden. Fuck, it could be half the cars on the road. But what could I do if they did come up behind me? It’s unlikely my clapped-out old bomb could outrun their new car.

I was driving along the free-way behind Seaford when I approached the entrance to the Toll-way. The quickest way to get through Melbourne is by the Toll-way. I started diverging to get on to it but then it suddenly occurred to me: if these guys can trace me when I use google, then maybe they could do the same when I go through the e-tag beeper. At the last moment I swerved back to the right, nearly collecting another driver: he sounded his horn and gave me the finger. It was a close one! But if I’d gone under the e-tag gantry those creepy guys in suits would have been on to me.

I realised I had to think hard about what route I’d take. No Toll-ways. But the guys pursuing me can probably still guess where I’m going. They know I googled Wurrungarini. If I take the obvious route, they’ll find me. I’ve got to take a route that’s not obvious. I’ve got to go by the backroads. It will be easy for the time being, but when I get to the real outback – when I get close to Wurrungarini – there’ll be only one road. Oh well, I’ll worry about it when I get out there.

I drove through Melbourne. But I didn’t then take the Western Freeway outwards, or the road to Geelong. Both too obvious. Instead, I went west along a backroad called Doherty’s Road. The factories came to an end and I was driving across dry, flat paddocks with hills in the distance. I stopped for a break at a place with the name of – I kid you not – Cobbledicks Crossing. Actually, it was nice and peaceful. There was a small reserve, with no other people. A shallow river was idling its way through a steep little valley lined with bushes and trees. The remains of an old cobblestone ford lay under the water. Autumn was coming on and a few leaves were drifting down. Somewhere in the distance someone must have been burning leaves because there was a faint smoke haze in the air. From the back of the car, I got out a pack of chips and a bottle of coke, and just sat there looking at the reflections on the water. Not another soul around. I was always on the alert for the sound of a car coming, but: nothing.

Suddenly the silence was broken. A buzz on my phone. A text had arrived.

Who’s this? I wondered.

Shit! It’s Jim! The text just said go wave. WTF? But at least he’s alive! I texted back. r u ok? Where r u?’ I pressed send. But then I got a message back saying Not a valid number." What on earth?? I just got a text from the number! How can it be not valid?

What did he mean by Go wave? I’d heard of Go wild and Go away. But, Go wave? Wave to whom? And why? I had the vague feeling I ought to do what he had said. The only living being around I could see was a bird on a tree. So, I waved to it. It flew away. Still, the text was a good sign. He was still alive. And at least he hadn’t texted Help!.

I was staring at my phone, trying to figure out what the message might mean, when suddenly I realised: My fucking phone! Maybe they can trace my whereabouts through my phone! But then I thought: why haven’t they already found me? Perhaps they are just watching me. Maybe they are waiting until I stop in some isolated place and then they will come. An isolated place just like this! Fuck, what was I to do? This was my last link to Jim. But they might be using it to follow me. There was only one thing I could do: I had to get rid of the phone. I dropped it in some long grass.

Still, I wanted to know if they were following me. I didn’t want to think I’d thrown away my only link with Jim for nothing. Instead of continuing on, I drove back, retracing the way I’d come. After about a mile the road turned hard left. But to the right was a small road. I think it was the driveway to a farmhouse. At the side of the driveway was a stone fence and an overhanging tree. I parked my car behind it. Anyone coming along the road couldn’t see me, but if I looked through a gap in the rocks, I could see them. I waited. In about a quarter of an hour a car drove up. It was white. Looked like the car I’d seen outside my place. And there were two men in it. As they got closer to the bend the car slowed right down and I got a pretty good look at them. I’m sure they were the men I’d seen in Rosebud Plaza. Jesus Christ! I waited till they had passed, and then I drove off.

I continued on the backroads, taking twists and turns, but generally making my way west. By late afternoon I’d got to Warrnambool. I couldn’t risk signing in to a hotel: sometimes they ask for your rego number, and they think it’s weird if you don’t pay by card. I didn’t have a tent. Fortunately, though, my car is a station wagon. If you put the back seats down there’s enough space to lie down. I bought myself a foam mat and a few rugs and made up a bed in the back.

Looks quite comfy I said to myself.

I got some fish and chips and continued on my way. It was dark by the time I got to a place called Dartmoor. Just out of Dartmoor the forest was thick and it started to rain. I found a sheltered parking area by the road and settled down for the night.

Next morning it was foggy and cold. I was woken up by a truck laden with logs rumbling along the road. Its headlights beamed out through the fog and it splattered mud on my car as it went by.

I need some coffee I said to myself.

About half an hour’s drive west I crossed the border in to South Australia and arrived in Mount Gambier. Lots of coffee and a slap-up breakfast. I needed it. From here I could either continue along the coast or turn north. I decided to turn north. I just felt it would be a bit less predictable. The thing is, I had to admit they might still be following me. Is it really possible I had given them the slip so easily? I’m just some thick-as-two-short-planks dropkick. And it’s their job to tail people. Professionals, I assume. Could it have been so easy? Better to change direction.

Mount Gambier was near the coast. Lots of ads for fresh crayfish and local seafood. But the road north heading away from the coast led up in to the hills and through pine forests. Logging country. Then the forest came to an end and I was driving through farmlands. Sheep, then wheat-fields. Gradually the farms became fewer and I was driving through mile after mile of Mallee scrub: small stunted eucalypts too low to be trees but too thin and wiry to be bushes. Wilderness. The further north I got, the drier it became.

By late afternoon I’d arrived in a town called Renmark. It was on the Murray River. I could have gone further but I needed to look at google earth before I reached desert country. The local library was open.

Got any ID? the librarian asked when I said I wanted to use a computer.

Sorry, I’ve left it in the car I said.

I need ID she said.

I shrugged and went off to browse the book shelves.

There was a group of tables with computers on them. Most were in use, but a few were vacant. I knew you needed the password to get on to them. One person got up. They were about to walk away but then they logged off. Bugger. I stood behind a book shelf, pretending to read, but all the while I kept an eye on the computers. Someone else seemed to be getting ready to leave. He seemed a bit vague and absent minded. He picked up his walking staff and turned to get up. Then he noticed me standing behind the bookshelf. I quickly lowered my eyes and made out I was reading a book. Then he stood up and went out the front door of the library. The librarian was doing something else and hadn’t noticed him leave. I went and sat at the now-vacant computer. It was still on. You have 43 minutes remaining it said. Great.

I got on to google earth and found Wurrungarini. It was a remote place out west of Kata Juta. The main road out there came from the east, and then continued out to the far west. Eventually it wound its way south-west all the way to Perth. Some of the places it passed on the way had unlikely names. One was called Cosmo Newberry. Sounds like an English village but it appeared to be just a rusting windmill by a pond in the middle of some sand-dunes. Another was called Ex Credo. I don’t know what it means. I no longer believe perhaps? It seemed to have just a few low hills in the distance and a flat, empty horizon. But I digress. Jim’s message about the dark net of roads must have been sent from some point a few hours west of Wurrungarini. I zoomed in on the road there. Actually, by then it was just a dirt track. I tried to find something that might be a darknet of roads. Nothing. But then I noticed a faint track leading north away from the main track. I followed it as it wound and twisted its way north for miles. Eventually it came to what looked like the ruins of an old homestead and then stopped.

Not much help there. I thought.

I sat staring at the screen. Then I noticed a faint line, horizontal, across the screen. Faint as a hair, but there. A fence maybe? The only thing is, fences in the outback are usually there to keep some animals in or others out. Consequently, usually on one side the vegetation is more eaten than on the other. It was not the case here.

I think I know what it is I said to myself. These images on google earth are a pasted together mosaic. The faint line I can see is just where one image has been joined to another.

Still got 28 minutes to go. What will I do? Look at some porn and let the other user take the blame?

I sat staring at the faint line. If it is a fence, maybe it is significant. If this dark net of roads really does exist, perhaps there’s a fence to keep people out. I scrolled to the left, watching the faint hair-line. As I moved left, I became aware it was starting to curve slightly up. Maybe it’s not a fence then. Fences are generally straight, aren’t they? But I thought the edges of photos that make up google earth had straight lines, too. Perhaps over long distances they curve because the Earth is round. But I wouldn’t have thought the curvature would become apparent over such a short distance.

I kept scrolling to the left. Now I had to scroll up pretty frequently because by this time the line was clearly curving up. The line seemed to be the rim of a circle. But a big circle. Maybe a hundred miles in diameter. As I continued scrolling a dry creek bed came in to view. I followed the creek up north, further into the circle. I thought there might be a settlement or farm beside it. But it just emptied in to a dry salt pan. Nothing flowed out.

Well, nothing of any help there. I thought.

Five minutes left.

I tried following the dry creek bed south. There might something – an old farmhouse or something – along the side of a creek. But no good. It wound its way south out of the circle for a few miles, and then it, again, emptied in to a dry salt pan. That’s where it stopped. Nothing flowed out.

I sat there thinking how else I might get some sort of clue. But then it struck me. Hang on! I thought "How can both ends of the creek flow in to dry salt pans?"

One minute left.

I looked carefully at the salt pan outside the circle. There was definitely nothing flowing out of it. I quickly scrolled back to the other salt pan inside the circle. There was definitely nothing flowing out of it, either. How can this be possible?

Time up.

An announcement came over the intercom. This library will shortly be closing.

I stood up and made my way towards the door. The librarian caught my eye as I walked past. She gave me a look as if to say: Have you been in here all along? I smiled at her and walked out.

I’m not the smartest guy in the world, but one thing I do know is that water doesn’t flow up hill. How could it be possible? I got in my car and drove off.

I got myself a take-away dinner, drove out of town and found a secluded spot by the river. I had to think about what I’d seen. Jim said he had found a dark net of roads. But why would he call it a dark net unless it was somehow secret or hidden. Now what I’d seen on google earth was starting to make more sense. The big circle: it was hiding something. What you saw on google earth couldn’t be what was really out there. They’d put another image there instead. But they had made one tiny mistake. Where there was a road going in to the circle, they’d put the image of a road on the other side. Where there was an image of a creek bed, they’d put a creek bed on the other side. But they’d forgotten to check where the creek bed went . If one end of a creek bed runs in to a dry salt pan, the other end can’t do the same: not unless water runs up hill. So I knew: what was really out there other was not what appeared on google earth. I felt I’d found the tiny crack that leads to another world. And somewhere, out in the other world, was Jim.

3. Crossing the Bridge With a New Identity

Early next morning saw me heading north-west. The country around Renmark is irrigated by the Murray River: I’d never seen so many orange trees and grape-vines in my life. But once you get away from the river it’s pretty desolate. Almost desert. I realised I’d soon have to start preparing for the outback.

What was out there? A secret base? Something like Pine Gap but bigger? Or what’s that place in America? Area 51 or something. Maybe it’s something along those lines. But it must be more secret than those places. I mean, tampering with google earth is a really big deal. Who’d do it? The CIA? But they don’t keep even Area 51 secret by falsifying google earth. Not as far as I know. Jesus H Christ, what’s out there? Or maybe my theory they’ve tampered with google earth is bullshit.

By mid-morning I’d arrived at Port Pirie. I was low on petrol so I pulled in to a road house. I filled up and went to pay. But something was going on inside the roadhouse. Everyone was glued to the television. I could hear people gasping.

What is it? I asked.

A tsunami someone explained.

Overnight there had been a huge earthquake in New Zealand. A tsunami had travelled across the Tasman and hit the east coast of Australia. It was now sweeping around the south coast and was striking the beaches on Victoria. They showed an image of Gunnamatta Beach.

Shit! That’s my beach! I thought.

A huge wave swept in. There was a poor guy on the sand running up towards the stairs. He was yelling, warning everyone to run. All he could get out was: Go! Wave!, then he was swept away.

Everyone gasped. Someone screamed. Jesus! I could have been there myself. I used to surf at Gunnamatta.

Everyone else kept watching. But I had turned away. I could feel the hair standing up on the back of my neck. All I could see in front of my eyes was the last text I’d got from Jim. go wave. He wasn’t telling me to wave. He was warning me. He knew I used to go to Gunnamatta. He was warning me about the tsunami.

But then reason and rationality started to speak up. How could he have been warning me? He had sent me the text two days ago. Up on the television they were saying the earthquake had caught the seismologists unawares. If the scientists didn’t know it was going to happen, how could Jim, stuck somewhere in the outback, have known two days ago? Logic told me it wasn’t possible. But it was Gunnamatta beach! And they were the exact words the poor guy who got swept away had said! Go wave. Jim’s text seemed like a warning , but how could it have been?

I paid for my petrol and walked out. I drove off and parked in a side street of Port Pirie. I just sat and stared in to the distance. This was all beyond my capacity to understand. Part of me wanted to just turn back. Or go and live somewhere else. Change my name. Start a new life. But Jim was alive somewhere out there. And it did seem as though the text was meant to warn me. Maybe to save me. He had been trying to save me. I had to go out there and see if he needed saving.

I drove in to the main shopping area of Port Pirie and bought some cans of petrol: where I was going there’d be no petrol stations. I got lots of water containers too. And food that wouldn’t go off without refrigeration. There was one more thing I needed to do. Soon there would be no backroads. There would be only one road out where I was going. And they – the guys I thought might be following me – they knew what my car looked like. Something needed to be done.

I went to one of those shops where everything is $2. They had cans of spray paint. For some reason they had stacks and stacks of burnt orange. That’ll do. Anything that’s different from the grey of my car. And it’s not too different from the colour of the sand that is out there. Could be good camouflage.

I was standing in the queue to pay when I noticed another thing: a long, blonde wig. Cost two dollars, so I knew it was