Warning! This is what's called an Alternate Universe story. A lot of what you know can be tossed out the window here. You'll recognize characters, but not necessarily events. Because that's not the way it happened here. If you want to stick with the original premise of FX: The Series, go read something else. If you're willing to try something different... read on.

Angie Ramirez sighed deeply and pushed her hair back from her face. She looked out across the landscape of the Australian Outback. She didn't want to be here, but then she didn't know where she wanted to be. Life since her father's death four years ago in that special effect gone horribly wrong was hard. Going to NYU had been out of the question. She couldn't afford it despite the hefty insurance payment and inheritance from her father. Of course, she wasn't suppose to touch part of that inheritance until she was older, wiser... Maybe if it was a true emergency type of need, otherwise she was told to save it for retirement. And she hadn't been able to bring herself to sell her father's workshop or his tools of the trade... Despite the fact she had truly hated that trade for a while.

Once, it had been her dream, working with her father, side by side, making the best special effects possible. Once, she was to have gone to New York University and learn everything there was to learn about computers. Instead, she'd ended up working and going to the community college in her off hours.

And now, she worked for "Big Jake" Westmoreland, the biggest jerk in special effects. She'd once heard the man claim he'd hired her "because I owe Manny for teaching me the art of F/X". Ha! Her father had tossed the man out on his dumb ass less than six months after he started. He proclaimed him unteachable, impossible and dangerously arrogant. The man thought he already knew it all. And that attitude hadn't improved over the years. It didn't help Angie that she knew more that her "boss" ever could. Big Jake had been riding that knowledge hard for the past year, ever since she quit college. Westmoreland Effects was getting better jobs now, because it was dishing up better SPFX... all because of her. But the world didn't notice that and no one else would hire her. Once the name Ramirez meant something in the competitive world of special effects, but she didn't have enough experience on her resume. All of those years, working by her father, didn't count in the male dominated world of F/X. Jake drooled over the thought of getting his hands on her father's workshop, but she wouldn't let him touch it and fortunately, in this Manny's lawyer had agreed with her for a change.

The blonde shook herself and returned to placing the smoke charges with meticulous care. In the dryness of summer in the bush, she didn't want to risk them starting a fire. Not that Jake cared, but she thought that the director, Simon Simony appreciated it... Or would, if he noticed. She heard a soft rustling sound above her head, glanced up and froze. There, hiding in the branches of the tree was a teddy bear come to life, a baby koala slowly crossed the limb, making soft, piteous, hungry noises. It looked too young to be without it's mother and Angie looked around trying to locate her. She frowned in puzzlement when she didn't see another one. Where was the mother?

David McNabb, the second camera director, came over, worried about the young woman. "Angie? Are you all right?"

"There's a baby koala up there," the blonde pointed up into the tree, "but I don't see it's mother."

David peered up into the tree and saw the small animal. "Wait here and don't touch it. You don't know what it might do. I'll get that aborigine we hired to advise us."

Angie shot a look of disgust at his back, men, and looked back up. The poor thing appeared to be very hungry and she thought it was getting weaker. She didn't try to climb up to reach it though. Not because of what the baby might do, but because she didn't know what harm she might do to it. She hoped the man David was fetching could help. She hoped he wouldn't decide it was dinner or something. It looked remarkably similar to the teddy bear her father had given her when they found out Mom was dead. She was so focused on the baby koala, she didn't notice the men's approach until the aborigine spoke.

"You wait here, girlie. I'll pass the joey to you." The older man, his long, dark curls heavily shot with gray, easily scrambled up the tree.

Angie watched in awe as he gently collected the baby, making soothing noises to still it's crying. Climbing part way down, he lowered the koala and she automatically reached up to take it in her arms. The poor thing clamped down on her shirt and cried piteously.

The man jumped down from the tree. Smugglers and probably poachers as well. The tribe would have to do something about them. They were getting bolder again. This was the second abandoned koala cub in less than two weeks. "You come with me, sheila. We'll see about getting this little one taken care of." He walked away, assuming the woman would follow, heading for the rusted out truck that he used.

Angie gaped after him for a moment, then scrambled to follow, carefully cradling the baby against her chest. She climbed into the old truck and watched as the aborigine got in and expertly jump started it. Jumped?

"One of the hunters lost the keys a few months back. Haven't had a chance to get new ones." Mangela grinned at her, showing even, white teeth in his dark face. "How you and the little one doing, girlie?" He asked as he drove away from the location shoot... very fast.

"All right," Angie flinched slightly at the speed they were going and ducked her head down to concentrate on the koala clinging to her. "We're doing all right, I think. Where are we going?"

"To take that little one to someone who'll raise her up proper so she can return to her home in the trees. Why, girlie? Did you think we'd eat her?"

Ange blushed, because the thought had crossed her mind more than once. "My name is not girlie! Or Sheila either. It's Angie!"

"Okay, Angie it is." The man flashed his smile at her again. "You call me Mangela."

"Who taught you to jump start the truck, Mangela?" The blonde asked, curious.

"My sonny boy taught us. He fixes thing. Got the touch. Smart in white man's magic." Mangela nodded and his smile turned sly. "You'll like him. He'll take care of that little one too." He paused as he dodged a kangaroo, then explained. "I think since his mum died when he was young, he thinks he has to raise every motherless critter in the bush. Can't turn any of them away and everybody knows it! They all bring the orphans to him. Even the hunters and the drovers do it."

Angie nodded, she couldn't think of anything to say to that. She knew what it was like to lose a mother while you were young though. At least, he still had his father. He wasn't an orphan, like she was. She stifled the thought quickly.

Mangela slammed the old truck to a halt in front of a small house with a tin roof, sitting in the middle of nowhere. There's a lot of nowhere in Australia, Angie thought. Tin had been added to the front to give it a porch, but there wasn't a floor for the porch, just the ground. Except the ground was carefully swept. Angie could see the marks the broom had made. She climbed slowly out of the truck, the dust settling around it and listened to Mangela shout.

"Rollie!" Mangela called. "Where are you, sonny boy? Brought you another one."

Angie gaped slightly at the tall, thin man who stooped down through the doorway and came out of the house. He had long brown hair reaching well below his shoulders full of soft, wavy curls. It was held away from his face by a cloth tied around his head, just like Mangela's was. His feet were bare and he wore a soft, faded khaki shirt and pants with the legs rolled up. The man also wore a shearling wool vest and the sight made Ange stare even more. It was much too hot for that! His skin was too pale for him to be an aborigine and Angie wondered if he was a half-breed.

"Another what, Mangela?" His voice had an Aussie accent, similar to Mangela's, but the words were slower, more deliberate. Sonny boy sounded resigned and a trifle reluctant too.

"Another joey, Rollie." Mangela waved to where Angie was standing uncertainly.

The man looked at her for the first time and Angie was struck by his warm brown eyes as they took in both her and the little koala she cradled. "Hello," the man spoke softly and carefully approached the koala, "what have we here?" He ran careful fingers gently over the baby. "Sounds like you're a hungry little lady." He glanced shyly at the beautiful blonde holding her. "Um, if you'll come inside. I'll get her a bottle." As the man turned, Angie realized the reason for the hot wool vest. Another baby koala was clinging tightly to his back, sound asleep. "Smugglers again, Mangela?" He asked the question as he lead them back to the kitchen and rummaged through a drawer. He pulled out a new nipple. His hands worked quickly to place the nipple on a baby bottle he pulled from a simmering pot on the old wood stove.

"Yeah, Rollie. They're probably the ones poaching the roos. They're getting bold again. Make us another poacher trap?"

"You know I will," Rollie answered as he tested the temperature of the bottle's contents. "Come here, baby." He reached out and coaxed the baby koala to release Angie's shirt. "Come on, don't you want your bottle?" Gently, one by one, he got the koala to release her claws from the woman's shirt and transferred the baby to cling to his vest. "That's a good girl," as she started to suck on the bottle, one paw wrapped around his hand, making sure the food stayed where she could reach it. The other koala woke up and climbed to the man's shoulder. Rollie turned his head slightly to look at it. "Not your turn, greedy guts. Be good to your new sister, why don't you? Greedy little joey. Just like a boy, always hungry for more."

Angie watched fascinated as the Aussie led them outside with his charges clinging to the vest and sat down in a swing type contraption of cloth and wood. He smiled softly and nodded to another swing. "Have a seat. You're with that movie crew Mangela's been working for, aren't you?"

The blonde cleared her throat. "Yeah, I am. I'm part of the special effects crew. Angie Ramirez."

"Rollie Tyler. I'm sort of the local fix-it man. If it's broken, they expect me to fix it. Don't do too bad at it." He gently stroked the little koala they'd brought to him. "Good girl. I worked movies for a bit a few years back. In the States, even. Stunt work."

"Oh." Angie didn't know what to say, she'd sort of scorned the macho, devil may care attitudes of the stunt men and women.

"Didn't really work out. Decided to come home again. I, uh, I was fascinated by the special effects. They were impressive." Rollie spoke slowly, shyly, not looking at the woman. He wasn't used to women, not really. He'd known a few, but hadn't seen many near his age since he'd returned to Docker River. The women here were all too old or too young or married, except a couple of The People and they were more like sisters. "How did you get into the field?"

"Um, my father. He did special effects. I helped him when I wasn't at school. Learned a lot from him."

Rollie nodded and tried to think of something semi intelligent to say to this woman.

Neither noticed Mangela had sidled away, leaving them alone. He laughed softly to himself and hoped his sonny boy still remembered what to do with a woman. The boy had been alone too long. This one would be good for him. She was all fire and temper. Smart too, like Rollie. They would make a good match... if he could keep them together long enough to get somewhere. "Talk to her, boy. She's not going to bite you," he whispered.

"So, you're here with your dad?"

"No, he... he died several years ago."

"Oh. ... I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. It just," Angie shrugged, "it was one of those things."

Rollie looked off into the distance, staring at something unseen. "Bet you miss him."

"Yeah, I do." She hesitated a moment. "Is Mangela your father?"

Rollie laughed softly. It was a nice laugh. "No, not really. He and the People, they sort of adopted me." He looked down at the koala cub which, her tummy full, was falling asleep. "My Dad isn't around very much. Never has been." He shrugged, accepting of what he couldn't change.

"My mom died when I was about nine. I hadn't seen her for almost three years." Angie spoke the words, then stopped, stunned. Why was she telling this stranger these things?!?

"Three years? Why?" Rollie looked at her, his eyes suddenly sharp. They were filled with a warm sympathy that Angie soaked up inside. The look reached a place she hadn't let anyone touch for so very long. Not since...

"We had to flee Cuba. Mom... Mom stayed behind so we, my Dad and me, could escape. There was a general there that liked her."

The way she said it told Rollie all he needed to know about that particular situation. "How did she die?" He spoke softly and something in the way he said it told her clearly that it wasn't morbid curiosity like her friends possessed when they asked.

"She caught a fever. They wouldn't give her any medicine. The general had lost interest by then."

"My Mum. She died out here. Alone. Nobody knew, nobody around." Rollie was staring into the distance, toward where their home had been, before it'd been burned out in the last bush fire. "They found her three days later." He shivered, then finished softly. "I found her... I was seven." He'd never mentioned that to anyone else. He knew, without knowing how he knew, that his father, Mangela and everyone else had hoped he'd forgotten it in the shock of that time. So, for them, he pretended he didn't remember.

Angie stared at him, stunned by the thought. She shivered, if that had happened to her... It was horrible! How did he handle it? Once more she wondered, why? Why were they talking like this to each other? It was obvious, Rollie Tyler didn't speak of these things normally. She didn't speak of her mother. So why were they? "Why are we talking like this to each other?" Angie didn't realize she'd said it aloud until Rollie answered.

"Maybe because we're strangers who will probably never meet again. Or maybe because we recognize a... a link, a kindred spirit between us."

Angie nodded thoughtfully. Maybe that was it. Maybe they both needed to finally speak and felt they could to each other. Strangers passing, they wouldn't have to worry about what the other one thought. "Do you know what killed her?" She asked softly.

"She was pregnant. She miscarried. The bleeding didn't stop." Rollie shot her a sharp look. "I'm not suppose to know that. I heard the adults talking one day afterwards. It was going to be a girl," he finished wistfully, "a little sister." He would have enjoyed having a little sister to take care of, to watch out for and teach the things only he knew. For Rollie knew that he knew things no one else did. Mangela had taught him the beliefs of The People and about the Dreaming and the Song Lines. Dingo had taught him sharp talking and conning, the ways of the trickster. He had taught himself how to fix things, how to take them apart and see what wasn't right and how to replace it so it would work again. How to do things no one else seemed able to do. A foot in both the white man's world and the aboriginal world, truly belonging to neither.

Angie sighed deeply and looked out across the land. She saw the sun was westering and watched some kangaroos hopping through the bush. Wanting to escape the secrets they were sharing, she asked. "Smugglers?"

"Yeah, animal smugglers. Koalas don't live here. We're out of their range. Only explanation for this pair is they were abandoned by animal smugglers. They're probably poaching too."

"Oh. Why would they abandon them?"

"Not sure. They might have been slowing them down. Or the mothers might have been getting weak, sick like. Not getting the eucalypts they normally eat. Get rid of the babies, the mothers would be more likely to survive."

"That's awful!"

Rollie nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

"What's a poacher trap?"

Rollie laughed out loud, a crowing laugh. "It's really simple. I make up this really awful scent. Mangela and some of the hunters go out and set up bottles of it where the poachers have been. Around the wombats and the roos and the like. They set up trip wires using thread that can't be seen. Then when the poachers come around, they trip 'em and the bottles fall and break. The scent gets into them something awful so they really stink. Then they can't get near the animals. People neither, because every one would know that they'd been caught in a poacher trap. Lasts for weeks."

Angie grinned, then sobered. "Aren't you afraid some of the animals might get into it?"

Rollie shook his head. "Nope. They're too smart. They can smell it even in the bottle and stay away."

"Ever catch someone not a poacher that way?"

The Aussie grinned at her. "Got one of the state police that way once." He laughed at the thought. "Fortunately, the constable was real understanding... After I got the scent out."

"You can get rid of the scent too?" It was Angie's turn to look sharply at Rollie. It was relatively easy to make what was in essence a stink bomb, but to remove the scent, that took something more.

"Of course," Rollie scoffed. "Had to, just in case some of the animals didn't stay out of it or somebody accidentally got some on them. Took a while to figure it out, but I did."

Angie observed the Aussie thoughtfully. He fixed things too. Rollie Tyler would have been a good special effects artist, if he could do things like that. She wished her father were here. He would know and he could have taught Rollie what he'd need to know. Finally, she spoke aloud. "You would make a good F/X man."

Rollie shook his head in denial.

"Yes, you would." Angie told him. "You have what it takes. I know. I grew up around special effects, remember."

"You're serious?" Rollie looked at her in wonder.

"Yes, I'm serious. My Dad would have taught you if he was still alive." Angie smiled warmly at him. "He would have liked you. Not like that jerk I work for."

"Jerk? Oh yeah, Mangela mentioned a prat with you people. Big Jake something?"

"That's him. Big Jake Westmoreland. God's gift to special effects, he thinks. Doesn't have a clue."

"How does he get away with it?"

"He's got me to do the work. That's how!" Angie declared with righteous indignation.

"Oh, that good are you?" Rollie asked softly.

"Yes! I am so that good." Angie turned away, her manner saying Men! clearly as if she'd spoken it aloud.

"Could you teach me?" Rollie continued thoughtfully, intrigued by the notion.

Angie sighed deeply. So, he wasn't being macho and chauvinistic. "No," Angie hurried to explain, "I know how, but I don't have the reputation. You have to have a rep in SPFX to get anywhere in the business."

"Oh," Rollie released the possibility for later and looked into the distance, toward Docker River. "Looks like my day for company. Some one else is coming." He stood, careful not to dislodge his sleeping charges.

Angie stood with him and looked in the same direction. "How can you tell?"

"See there, the dust rising up. Some one's driving out from the town. Probably has something for me to fix. That's usually why they come."

The blonde strained her eyes and finally, just barely saw the dust. Most likely because they'd gotten closer. "I should get back to work."

"Yeah. I remember. Schedules to keep." Rollie smiled down at her. "Don't worry about this little one. I'll take care of her proper."

Angie reached out to touch the koala baby, then dropped her hand, afraid she'd wake her up.

"It's okay. You won't disturb her." Rollie assured the woman. "Come back when you get some time. We have to name her."

Angie gently stroked the soft fur of the baby koala. "Okay. I'd like that." She smiled up at him. "Where's Mangela?" She looked around for the older man.

"Hanging around out back," Rollie told her as he walked that way. He raised his voice. "Probably hoping I'll get somewhere with you."

"Somewhere with me?" Angie asked in puzzlement.

"Yeah, everybody wants me to get married. Go on about me being alone all the time. He was probably itching for a chance to bring you out here ever since he laid eyes on you. Or to get me over there. Not many women near my age out here and they're already married, mostly."

Rollie said the words matter of factly, but Angie still blushed, embarrassed. She hadn't thought about that before. "Oh."

"Sorry, now I embarrassed you. He's harmless and it doesn't really mean anything. Just something he pulls once in a while. It's worse when he and Dingo get together and pull something like this."

"Dingo?"

"My dad. If he shows up, don't listen to him. Rot your brain, he will."

Angie hid a smile. Rollie had said it so seriously. "Okay. I won't," she promised solemnly.

"Good. You're too smart to be getting brain rot." Rollie smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. "Be a real waste. Don't like waste."

"Neither do I." Angie smiled back up at him. She thought about Rollie Tyler on the way back to the location site. What was it like? To live all the time so far from other people? Did he like it? Or hate it? Maybe he preferred it. Maybe he didn't like being around people. Maybe he liked being alone? Somehow, she didn't think that was the answer. She found herself looking forward to her next off day for the first time in a very long time. They had to name the baby koala, after all.

Angie Ramirez was in an extremely good mood by the time Mangela reached the locale. Not even Big Jake could spoil it, though he tried. He yelled at her for not being done with the charges, for delaying the shoot, for being gone so long. The blonde ignored him, letting his words roll off her back... like water off a duck-billed platypus. She was glad to be in the Australian Outback, in the middle of nowhere. Neither of the special effects artists noticed Simon Simony or David McNabb observing them. It wasn't until she was getting ready for bed that she realized the baby koala had ripped holes in her shirt.
 
 

Rollie watched Angie and Mangela leave, his face wistful. She was beautiful and so... there. He wished there could be more than an orphaned koala and lost mothers between them. Of course, after the filming was over, she'd be leaving anyway and going home to the States. He knew some of the drovers and such didn't mind short relationships, but he did. He wanted more than that if he was going to be involved with someone. He always had, but somehow any possible relations never seemed to work out for him. Mindful of his sleeping charges, the lanky man gave himself a mental shake and looked toward town. He wondered who was coming now. It was unusual for him to get this many visitors in one day. Sometimes he didn't get this many in a whole week.

"Bonzer. Mister Brown." Rollie greeted his new guests when they pulled up.

Bonzer hung around the pub mostly, mooching off the odd tourist (frequently lost). He'd discovered long ago that if he acted like Crocodile Dundee, they would eat it up. So that was what he did. Of course, Bonzer would never get near a real, live crocodile if he could help it, but that didn't phase his performance. Joe Brown was the local publican. He tolerated Bonzer at the pub, because it was good for business. The tourists would start talking to Bonzer and soon be drinking beer at the bar, usually paying for Bonzer's as well.

As far as Rollie knew, Bonzer didn't own anything that would require fixing and Brown usually sent his stuff off to Alice Springs. So why were they here? He watched with bright eyed curiosity as they clambered out of the car.

"Hey Rollie. Brought you a new un." Bonzer called to the younger Aussie.
 
Bonzer reached into the back and pulled out yet another joey for Rollie to tend. This joey was a young roo. Too young to be without it's mother yet, but not too young to be hopping around out of the pouch.
He looked at the koalas clinging to Rollie's vest, asleep. "Looks like it's not the first."

"No," Rollie shook his head, as he stroked the young kangaroo's nose. "Mangela thinks the poachers are getting bold again and it looks like they must be smuggling animals as well."

"Bad business, young Tyler." Brown sighed gustily. "We don't need poachers and smugglers. The Yamatji going to do anything about it?"

"Mangela asked for a poacher trap," the lanky Aussie informed the heavy set business man, "but you might want to put a call into the police. I've got a bad feeling about this lot."

The large man looked sharply at Rollie. They were of a height, but Joe Brown would make three of the much younger man. "Mangela say anything about worrying?" Most of the residents in and around Docker River took Rollie's "feelings" seriously. He'd long ago proved more accurate than not.

The brown haired man shrugged. "No, but you know Mangela. Likes to take care of things himself."

"Three joeys in less than two weeks isn't good." Brown worried at the inside of his cheek.

Rollie nodded agreement. "I've never gotten this many orphans to tend this quick, except after a fire. Just set the joey down, Bonzer. He'll stay put," he smiled at the young animal, "especially after I get his bottle."

"You going to need anything from town with this many young ones?" Joe asked, a bit uneasily. He hated giving anybody anything, but since he'd brought Rollie yet another mouth to feed, he felt a certain level of obligation.

"Nah, I'm fine for now. Just be sure to make that call, Mister Brown." Rollie called it over his shoulder as he went in to fix a new baby bottle.

"You gonna be able to handle all three, Rollie?" Bonzer asked him when he returned with the kangaroo's meal. Koalas were mostly awake at night and kangaroos during the day. Taking care of all of them together could get awkward and exhausting.

"No worries, mate. I'll just get a little less sleep. The koalas shouldn't get into too much at night." Rollie clucked as the baby roo sucked eagerly at the bottle. He laughed lightly when the joey licked his face and hands, then returned to the bottle. "This little guy should stay pretty close. As long as I keep doors shut, he won't get into mischief."

"If you say so, but if you need some relief," Bonzer trailed off. He knew he was a joke to most of the people of Docker River. Maybe Rollie Tyler wouldn't want his help.

"Thanks, Bonzer. If I need someone, I'll come in and ask." Rollie smiled gently.

'Probably be a few days before the police send someone," Brown cautioned.

"Yeah, but if you tell them about the koalas, they'll be here sooner rather than later."

"They might take them from you." Joe Brown warned him.

Rollie shrugged. "As long as someone takes care of them, it doesn't matter who, Mister Brown. The important thing is to stop the poachers before we have more orphans."

The publican nodded agreement. He and Bonzer said their good byes and left Rollie to look after the young orphans.

Rollie sighed in relief. Hopefully, the Northern Territory State Police would send someone soon. He wondered when Angie would come back for a visit or even if she would. He went back inside to finish repairing the broken two-way radio that Kelly Brennan had left the day before. The radios were extremely important to the smaller ranchers. It was cost prohibitive to run phone lines out and cell phones just plain cost too much and weren't reliable enough. The young roo hopped in after him, wanting to stay close to his new "mum". Rollie coaxed the sleepy koalas to his back and got out his tools. He needed to be done when Mangela came back by that evening. The old aborigine had promised to run it out to Brennan's Portebello Station.

The rest of the day passed quietly for Rollie and his young charges. The radio was fixed and ready to go. He inventoried his remaining supplies, trying to decide what parts and items he needed to get the next time he went to town. The young roo stayed close, but didn't get into too much. Rollie only had to rescue him once from the pots in the kitchen. He was brewing the scent for the poacher traps when it happened. The koalas woke and protested the loud clanging of the pots falling. The kangaroo looked absolutely miserable at the racket he'd made, his ears drooping expressively. He soon perked back up after Rollie gave him some pieces of quandong fruit from his tiny pantry.

Rollie had to pull his attention back from thinking about the beautiful blonde who had visited earlier. He performed his few chores while daydreaming about her next visit. He dug into his clothes chest and pulled out the pouch he'd made for the last roo joey he'd tended. Examining it, he reinforced some seams and put it on, under the wool vest. Later, he went walking, looking for some tasty bush tucker to extend his supplies and any traces of the animal smugglers/poachers. The roo followed him, staying near, but occasionally paused to nibble on some leaves or grass. When the joey tired, he squirmed his way into Rollie's pouch. Feeling safe there, the baby peeked out, watching the world around him. Rollie walked carefully, it was an awkward load with sleeping baby koalas on his back and a baby kangaroo occasionally giving him an accidental kick or poke in the front.

Evening found Rollie sitting in his hanging chair, baby roo in his lap, baby koalas on each shoulder. He watched in mild amusement as the old truck came to a hard stop in front of his home. "You'll need new brakes soon the way you're going, Mangela."

"Nah, doing fine, Rollie. How's the joeys?"

"Fine, they're fine." Rollie shifted slightly. "Um, Angie all right? She didn't get any trouble about being gone so long?"

Mangela smiled slyly to himself. "She's fine, that big blow hard tried to give her a hard time, but she handled him just fine. That director fella didn't seem to mind the delay."

"Good. Radio's fixed. You still taking it to Kelly?"

"Sure thing, sonny boy. 'S why I came by, 'member."

"I remember, but with you I never know." Rollie smiled fondly at his spiritual father. Between Dingo and Mangela, it was a wonder his hair wasn't gray or gone all together from him pulling it out. "Be sure to warn them about the poachers."

"I will. Where'd you get the other joey?"

"Mister Brown and Bonzer brought him by." Rollie hesitated, but decided that he might as well get it over and done. "I asked Mister Brown to call the police. Three orphan joeys in less than two weeks is too much. We'll need their help."

"Struth, Rol, they can't help. They'll just stumble around and muck things up." Mangela shook his head in disgust. "Remember the last one. Got into your poacher trap."

Rollie nodded complacently.

"He wanted to arrest you after."

"He didn't. Face it, Mangela. The koalas prove this is bigger than Docker River and Kata Tjuta. It'll take more than The People to clean this lot out." Rollie ducked his head. "'Sides I have a bad feeling this time."

"You been to the Dreaming again, sonny boy?" The older man asked, suddenly worried.

"No, nothing that substantial. It's just a feeling." Rollie shrugged helplessly.

"All right. Police can come, but we'll go ahead and set up the traps."

"Right. Bottles are in the kitchen. Tell the young hunters to be careful with them."

"Just the young ones, Rollie?"

"The older hunters have learned better." Rollie's words were solemn, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. The first time they'd set the traps, Mangela hadn't believed Rollie about the smell. He'd opened a bottle. One whiff and he'd stumbled back, spilling it all over himself. It was a lesson the hunters had never forgotten. Some even avoided the spot where it happened, claiming they could still smell the horrible odor there.

"That they did," Mangela agreed fervently. He'd never doubted young Rollie's words after that incident. If Rollie Tyler said it, it was so. And the rest of the tribe, following Mangela's example, paid just as close heed to the young white's words. Rollie, aware of that regard, was extremely careful in the things he told the People. He knew the power of words, and what was more, he knew the power of lies. Dingo had taught him that well indeed. Rollie Tyler was careful to never lie to any of The People.

Rollie spoke as casually as he could. "So, when do you get another day off from the movie people?"

Mangela almost crowed in triumph. Rollie had no interest in his getting a day off. He was trying to find out when Angie Ramirez might come visit again. "About three days, I think."

Rollie nodded, trying to hide the way his heart leapt - three days. "Best get going, if you want to make Portebello Station while they're still awake."

"Too right, later sonny boy." Mangela left with a feeling of happiness, despite the worry he felt over the poachers. He had deliberately miscalculated the time to the next off day. He wanted Rollie to be Rollie when the beautiful, young sheila came to visit again. And that would be in two days.

The fire burned bright in the dark night. "Where's the joeys, Warren?" The words were growled, the voice harsh and cruel. Gunther Jackson was a big man with a broad chest and large arms. He had to be tougher and stronger than the rest of the gang to lead them. The smugglers were a rowdy bunch that needed a strong hand.

"I got rid of them, just like you said, boss!" Louie Warren squirmed and wiggled, like the weasel he was. Smaller than the other members of the gang, he tried to ingratiate himself to anyone he felt was on top at the moment.

"How?"

"I dumped them in the bush. No problem."

"Dumped them?!? I didn't tell you to dump them! If anybody finds those cubs..."

"They won't! Who'd find them? No one to look."

"The abos here are all over. If they find them..." Jackson's hand cracked hard against Warren's face. "You should have just killed them and buried the bodies. Besides, we could have sold the skins." He looked over to the large truck, barely visible in the firelight. Thinking of the full cages, soon to be hidden behind the crates of supplies. This load would bring them a very tidy sum. Not much, divided six ways, but then the others didn't know that he was getting thirty thousand for the lot. They thought it was twenty five. Only fair that he got more. He was the leader after all.

"Dingoes might of dug them up if I had buried them. No one will find them, Gun. Honest!" Warren groveled. "Besides, if they do, they won't know where they came from."

Jackson contemplated the smaller man. "We won't take the risk.  I want you to go back and find those koalas. Do it right this time! Get rid of them."

"Sure thing, Gun. That's what you want. I'll do it! First thing in the morning."

Gun Jackson grunted. "Louie, if anybody found them, get rid of them too. Don't need witnesses or trouble."

Warren gulped. That was a bit more than he was prepared to go. Not that he minded killing someone. It was just that killing the koalas was easy, but people fought back.

Jackson almost laughed at the look on Warren's face. "Take Cobb with you." Cobb was a big brute of a man, bigger than Gun was, but also extremely dumb. He needed someone to tell him what to do, but then he was an unstoppable juggernaut. Hurting him just made him angry. Gun swore you could kill Cobb and he would still go for several minutes, before the knowledge of "death" reached his minuscule brain. "Just get rid of the koalas and anyone who might've found them."
 

Louie groaned and muttered and complained as he scrambled up the dry bank to check the second spot for the koala cub. He and Cobb had spent the day before searching for the first koala. They had no luck what so ever. Finding no traces of it or anyone being there, he finally decided a dingo must of gotten it. Now, the poacher found himself staring at the place he had abandoned the second koala cub in horror and disgust. Where had all these people come from?!? It had been deserted before and was now swarming... with people. Gun wasn't going to like this! Not at all. Why were they here? Surely not because of a little koala cub. Sure, people thought they were cute, but this! It was ridiculous. "Stay here," he growled at Cobb. The big man shrugged and remained silent, sitting with his back against the creek bed where they were hiding. Louie slithered closer to where the people were, oozing between the bushes and trees, through the tall grass. He had to find out what was what first. Coming close to where some of the strangers sat eating breakfast, he froze and listened intently.

"So another day off and nothing to do around here," complained one of the men.

"We could have a poker game," commented another one.

"Yeah. Just 'cause you always win!" the first replied, bitterly.

"Not my fault I have good luck," the second one grinned, "and it is something to do."

"I think I'm going to do some sightseeing," the third man chimed in. "Anyone care to join me?" He looked over to the one woman in the group. "How about it, Angie?"

"Sorry, Jim," Angie replied, not sorry at all. "I've already made plans for the day."

"Oh? What sort of plans?" Jim asked, curious.

"Just visiting," the special effects expert replied airily. She smiled happily. "We need to name a koala cub."

That got Louie's attention. Koala cub? It had to be the one he'd left here. He examined the blonde woman carefully, then licked his lips. Nice, very nice. Maybe this job would have a... bonus. He leered at her.

"Oh yeah. That little cub you found." The first man nodded. "It was kind of cute."

"Yes, she is cute." Angie looked over to where an old truck had just pulled to a hard stop. "Well, got to go, guys. My ride is here!"

"How can you go off with that old man, Angie?" The second man asked.

"Eldon?!?" Angie stared at the man slightly shocked. She hadn't expected prejudice out of him.

"Well, you don't know anything about him, Angie." Eldon defended. "He's just somebody they hired off the street practically."

Angie looked thoughtful. Eldon was a funny guy, but he did seem genuinely worried. "Don't worry so much, Eldon. I know for a fact that they didn't just hire him 'off the street'. Mangela came highly recommended by the local government." She stood and brushed the dirt off her jeans. "Besides," Angie grinned mischievously, "it's not him you should worry about. It's the young guy we're going to visit!" She raced off to meet Mangela, laughing at the stunned looks on the men's faces. That was priceless! She hoped Rollie never heard about it though, or if he did, that he forgave her for "besmirching his reputation". She giggled at the thought as she hopped in beside the old aborigine. "Hi Mangela!"

"Hello Angie. You sound cheerful this morning. Good. Let us go visit my sonny boy." Mangela grinned and took off, too fast just like always.

Angie laughed and gripped the dash. She wondered if everybody drove like this in Australia.

Louie watched the old abo and the young woman drive off. He licked his lips and slithered away, returning to Cobb. "Come on, we've got to find out where they're going." He glanced at the dust plume in the air. "Slowly, Cobb. Don't want to let anyone to know we're here."

Angie looked ahead, eager to see Rollie again and the koalas. She didn't know why she felt the way she did, she just knew she felt it. The blonde shook her head and decided she didn't care why, she just wanted to enjoy it and the day. It was a beautiful day, clear and sunny and the promise was it would be hot. A lot like the other days they'd had here in the Outback. But for some reason, today was beautiful. Mangela slammed the old vehicle to a stop in front of Rollie's little home. She climbed out and yelled, "Hey Rollie! Where are you?"

Rollie jerked his head up inside from where he was feeding the kangaroo. What? Angie? But.... Damn, Mangela had done it to him again. He shook his head, wondering why he trusted the old man when it came to women. Sometimes... Still, Angie was here now and it was too late to change anything. His heart hummed as he yelled back. "In here!"

Angie grinned as she walked inside and smiled at the tall man where he sat with a baby kangaroo eagerly butting his hand, licking it, then returning to the bottle he held. She blinked, a bit surprised. There hadn't been a kangaroo here last time... Had there? "Where'd this little guy come from?" She asked softly.

"Oh, Bonzer and Mister Brown brought him by right after you left," Rollie replied as he stroked the joey's head. He sighed deeply as he continued. "The poachers got his mum. I asked Mister Brown to call the police. Hopefully, we'll catch them soon."

"I hope so too, Rollie." Angie sighed as well. She wanted this to be a happy day. The joey finished his bottle and Rollie stood up. Angie grinned to herself when she spotted the sleeping koalas exactly where she expected them to be - clinging to Rollie's back. How does he sleeps with them on him, she wondered idly. Angie reached out and stroked one of them. "So, are we going to name her?"

"You bet, Angie," Rollie grinned. "We need names for all three of them actually. Help me with it?"

"Of course, Mister Tyler." Angie smiled back. "Is there something special we do or do we just throw out names until one... sticks?"

"Not exactly. Naming is serious business," Rollie responded, trying hard to be serious. "We have to pick just the right names for each one of them. After all, names are for life."

So says a guy called Rollie, Angie thought and almost, but not quite, laughed. "Yes sir."

"Let's watch them a bit and see what fits, shall we?" Rollie grinned at her. He stroked the young kangaroo. "This little guy could use a bit of a brushing. Come on, we can do it outside." After all, it was too good a day to spend indoors. The lanky Aussie quickly found a couple of pet brushes and led the way outside.

No one noticed the eyes eagerly watching with binoculars from a rise about a kilometer away. Louie lit up with both surprise and relief when he spotted the koalas on Rollie's back. He grinned at Cobb. "Now, we wait for that old abo to go away, then we move in." He leered at Angie. "And maybe have a bit of fun for our trouble."
 

Mangela watched with pleasure as Rollie and Angie gently brushed the joey. They smiled at each other frequently. He didn't need to be here. They would do much better alone, so with that decided, he started to look for an excuse to leave the beautiful woman with his sonny boy. "Rollie," he called, "I'm going to check on Mrs. Lowe. I'll be back by to pick you up this evening, Angie girl."

Angie looked at Mangela. "Okay. See you later, Mangela."

"Yeah, later Mangela," Rollie muttered, well aware of what he was up to now. He shook his head slightly, but then found himself smiling at Angie again. Maybe Mangela had finally gotten it right. If only... Rollie shook his head harder, trying to knock the thought out of it, before it rooted too deeply. He concentrated on the joey which was thoroughly enjoying the attention he was receiving.

Louie and Cobb watched Mangela leave and grinned with pleasure. Soon, they would be done with their task and, as Louie had said, it looked like they had a very nice bonus for this particular chore.

Rollie gently scratched the roo behind his ears and looked over at Angie. "Any names yet?"

Angie solemnly observed the roo's pleasure and shook her head. "No, not yet."

"All right." Rollie stood up and stretched slightly. "You know, from what Mangela said, I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

Angie flushed ever so slightly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

"No, it's not you, Angie." The Aussie gave her a heart warming smile. "It's Mangela. Again."

Angie quickly put two and two together. "Oh." She blushed then, seeking a distraction, asked, "What now?"

"Well, I need to get..." Rollie trailed off as he walked around the corner and found himself face to face with a man mountain. He gulped slightly and tried to smile. "Uh... G'day. Can I do something for you, mate?"

Angie gaped at the huge man blocking Rollie's path. He was so... big and she didn't like the smile that was spreading slowly over his face.

"You can die." The mountain answered calmly in a surprisingly light voice.

Rollie took one step back and turned on his heel. "Run Angie!" His long legs were already stretching into a loping run.

Angie didn't need any encouragement, she ran as fast as she could. But where could they go? That man would surely catch them. She slid to a stop as a small, weasel faced man slipped out from behind Rollie's shed in front of her, a very large, very sharp knife in his right hand.

Rollie skidded to a stop behind her. He stole a quick glance over his shoulder at the other man and moved. The lanky man grabbed Angie's hand. "Come on!" He pulled her, unresisting, toward the bush.

A strange squeal brought Rollie to a halt. He spun around, his heart in his throat. The huge man had grabbed the baby kangaroo by his foreleg. The Aussie was positive from the sounds the joey was making that it was broken. He reached back and pulled one of the koalas off of his back. Thrusting it into Angie's hands, he pushed her toward the bush. "Go," he told her. Taking the other one, the male, he threw it up into the nearby tree. Startled, scared by the abrupt movements and the noise, the koala grabbed a branch and scrambled up.

With a soft growl, Rollie ran as fast as he could at the huge man hurting the baby kangaroo. He slammed his shoulder into him, full speed. The lanky Aussie grunted at the impact, it felt like hitting a mountain. But at least the man released his grip on the little joey. Rollie pulled back, but before he could grab the roo and get away, a huge hand clamped around his left forearm. He felt like making the same squeal the kangaroo had made as it squeezed down on his arm. The huge man pulled the much thinner man forward and then swung him back. Rollie slammed into the side of the shed, his head snapping back and connecting hard. Stunned, the breath knocked out of him, Rollie shook his head and started to sink to his knees.

Angie paused to look back, wondering where Rollie was. She paled at the sight of the gentle Aussie being lifted by a huge, ham like hand around his throat. Anger filled the blonde woman. She looked around and pushed the little koala she held into a small tree. Spotting a thick branch near the eucalyptus now holding the male koala, she ran for it. Grabbing it, she raced to where the huge man was squeezing Rollie's throat. The Aussie's face was turning blue, his eyes bulging. He struggled to breathe around the tightening grip. Angie pulled back, putting her entire weight behind the force of her swing, she hit the huge man in the back of his head. The branch snapped and Angie watched in horror as the man growled in anger, shook his head and turned to face her.

The man released Rollie who fell face down, unmoving. He stalked toward the pretty blonde that was backing away from him. Angie suddenly felt hands clamp around her arms. Her nose wrinkled at the foul odor and the words whispered in her ear. "Shouldn't have made Cobb mad like that, sheila."

Angie squirmed and tried to kick the man identified as Cobb. She gulped as he leered at her and reached to pull her from his companion's grip. A rasping growl made him look back to where Rollie lay. Except the man wasn't there. He growled in frustration and turned to find him. Rollie stood, swaying slightly, next to the shed, two sticks in his left hand, one decorated with colorful aboriginal designs. Cobb shambled forward, determined to finish the minor annoyance as quickly as possible so he could have some fun.

With a closed look on his normally expressive face, Rollie Tyler pulled his left arm back and threw the spear from the woomera. It flew straight and true, finding it's mark in the huge man's heart. Cobb stared in dumb surprise at the spear standing out of his chest. He made a strangled sound as his knees buckled and he fell to the ground, dead.

The smaller man stared, stunned, at the felling of his partner. Angie took advantage of his distraction to break out of his hold. She turned around and brought her knee up as hard as she could right between his legs. His eyes bulged out and  his face turned red as he squealed like a stuck pig. He reached for the blazing pain between his legs and fell to the ground. Angie turned toward Rollie who had sunk to his knees. She ran over and reached for him. Tremors ran through his thin body, whether from the abuse he had taken or having to take a life, Angie wasn't sure. "Rollie? Rollie, are you okay?"

Rollie didn't answer, his wide, stunned eyes focused on the body in front of him. His spear stood straight from it's still chest.

Angie tugged at him, trying to get him to stand. "Come on, we have to get out of here. They might not be alone." She might as well have tried to move Ayers Rock, Angie thought with despair, as Rollie took no more notice of her than he might a fly. It was a faint crying moan that finally distracted Rollie from the sight of the man he had killed. The lanky Aussie stumbled to his feet and staggered to where the baby kangaroo was crying pathetically. Angie breathed a silent prayer as she followed him. "Rollie?"

"We need a splint," he croaked in a hoarse whisper. Rollie looked at her, his brown eyes dark with despair and pain. He waved a hand toward the house. "The first aid kit."

The blonde obediently ran to find the requested item. It didn't take long to find it in Rollie's tiny, tidy home. She was out in a moment with the heavy box. Kneeling down beside Rollie and the kangaroo, she placed it on the ground. Angie watched anxiously as Rollie fumbled it open. His lips thinned to a hard line as he firmly straightened the broken limb. The little roo squealed again, but as if it knew Rollie was trying to help, didn't struggle to escape. She watched his gentle hands as he carefully splinted the leg. Done, he sank back on his haunches, his eyes closed. For a moment, she was afraid the Aussie was going to pass out, but then he shook himself.

"Where are the koalas?" Rollie forced the words from his swollen throat. Soon, he wouldn't be able to speak.

"In the trees." Angie answered carefully, very aware of the pain in Rollie's eyes, in spite of his closed expression.

Rollie forced himself to stand. He gently scooped up the baby kangaroo and snugged him into his pouch. The joey stopped his crying and hid there. Rollie could feel the shivering in that small body and became aware of the shivers in his own. He pushed the awareness away, along with the awareness that he'd just killed a man. He moved carefully to where the male koala was and coaxed him down. With the male clinging to his vest, he followed Angie to the little tree with the female. Soon, the two koalas were clinging to his back and he turned to the still body of the man he'd murdered and the man Angie had incapacitated. "Rope," he forced the word out and nodded toward the shed.

Angie, immediately understanding, went to find the needed rope. It didn't take long to tie up the moaning man. Done, she stood and looked with worried eyes at her companion. Rollie had to be going into shock. His face was pale and his eyes seemed full of black despair. "We need to go," she said as she gently grasped his hand. A shudder ran through his thin frame and he stumbled in the direction she tugged. The blonde paused again. They needed to get away before others could come and attack them, but where? She looked around in confusion. If only Rollie had a car, a truck, a SUV... Something, anything for transportation!

As if he understood Angie's indecision, Rollie moved into the lead, gently tugging Angie after him. He led her to his home and found supplies - a couple of water bottles, small tucker bags of food and a couple of blankets. Finished collecting them, he tried to lead her outside.

Angie balked suddenly. Rollie was hurt and needed to be tended just as the baby kangaroo had needed it. "Let's check you out first."

Rollie shook his head stubbornly and tried to answer. All that came out was a small, pained croak.

Angie pushed Rollie back until his legs connected with his bed. He sat under her next push. With careful hands, the blonde opened Rollie's shirt and pulled it off. She hissed at the sight of Rollie's back. It was a deep red color in several places. Soon, that deep red would give way to bruising. Bruising to match those that would soon appear on his throat. There wasn't anything she could do about them. She gently touched his left arm which clearly showed Cobb's cruel hand print, exploring carefully for breaks. She felt Rollie flinch under her touch. She went and fetched the first aid kit back into the house. Carefully, she fixed a splint to Rollie's arm. She eased his shirt back on him, then considered how to fix a sling for his arm. She checked the contents of the kit, and dissatisfied, looked around for something to use. Finally, she pulled the sheet from Rollie's bed and using scissors from the first aid kit, started a tear in the cloth. Using strong hands, she tore a strip off the sheet and fashioned a sling out of it. Easing Rollie's arm into it, she sat back and examined her handiwork. Angie wished she could just put the man to bed under a pile of blankets, he was clearly in shock, but they might still be in danger. Just because no one else had appeared to attack them, didn't mean that they weren't out there... waiting. They had to get away.

Rollie seemed to realize she was done and stood carefully. He cradled his left arm in his right, then moved his right hand to touch the pouch with the baby roo, protectively. A feeling of failure swelled in his heart. One of his charges had been hurt and he had done nothing to prevent it. He turned empty eyes to Angie.

Angie's heart ached in sympathy, but there wasn't time now. Later, she would talk to her new friend and hopefully, he would listen. She started to lead Rollie back out front, but he shook his head and pulled her out the back. She followed quietly, trusting Rollie to know the best way.

Rollie lead her cautiously into the thick bush that lay behind his house. He wove a careful path, leading her further and further away from his home and, he prayed, the danger there. His ears listened sharply for any sign that they were followed. He listened to the birds and insects, seeking warning or alarm. Long, silent minutes passed and hearing none, he finally turned toward town. He staggered slightly at a rise and was surprised when Angie slipped her sturdy body under his arm. With her support, he began to move more surely. In the condition he was in, it was a long way to Docker River, but that was the only place he could think to go. He couldn't risk bringing any of these men, surely part of the smugglers/poachers threatening the area, down on one of the cattle or sheep stations. Besides, Docker River was closest. A trip he normally made easily suddenly seemed hazardous and he wasn't sure how Angie would handle it. She was from the city. Hadn't she told him that? New York. Could she handle the long walk in the bush? In the heat of the summer? But ... It was their only hope, they couldn't wait for Mangela to return.
 
 

An hour later, Angie stopped. Rollie was shivering harder than ever, in spite of the day's heat. More than once, he had almost fallen. Knowing he would object if she said that he needed rest, she spoke carefully. "We need to take a break, Rollie." For an instant, she was afraid Rollie would be stubborn and try to continue, but then he slowly nodded his head. He lead her over to a bush and they sat under it, close to each other. Angie pulled the blankets from the roll and wrapped them around him. The koalas objected to the covering and climbed out from under it. The action brought a tiny smile to Rollie's closed face and Angie felt something inside of herself relax, just a bit, with that smile. Perhaps Rollie would recover after all. She pulled the water bag from her belt and passed it to the Aussie.

Rollie took a small sip, then  awkwardly poured a bit into the palm of his hand. Angie watched carefully as he offered the water to the female koala. She eagerly lapped the water from his hand. Rollie frowned slightly, because he knew koalas didn't normally drink water. They usually got it from the eucalyptus leaves they ate and in the joeys' case, from their mothers. Unfortunately, there hadn't been any way to bring the milk he normally fed the babies with them. Not in this heat anyway. He gave a bit to the male and then gently tried to coax the injured baby roo from the safety of the pouch. He glanced over at Angie and sighed ever so silently. It was a pity that the beautiful woman had been caught up in the deadly events of the day. He offered the water bag to her and she took a small sip as well.

Angie wanted to drink more, but she thought it best to follow Rollie's lead. He seemed to want to conserve their water, so conserve she would. She reached over to help coax the roo from his pouch, then jerked her hand back when he snapped at her. Part of her felt hurt by the action, but she could understand the roo's temper. He had to be hurting from his broken foreleg and the injury had to make him distrustful of humans. Another part acknowledged that it would have been easy for the kangaroo to have bitten her, so perhaps he still recognized her as a friend. Why he hadn't snapped at Rollie as well was a mystery... She observed Rollie Tyler act as patience personified, finally getting the joey to poke his head out. He reached his right hand over and she poured a bit of water into it and waited as the baby lapped it up, then licked Rollie's hand. The Aussie gently scratched and tugged the little roo's ears. His face was troubled by something new Angie thought and she wondered what it was. She snuggled close, silently offering what comfort she could.

If only he had the milk and bottles for the little ones, Rollie thought. Going without for a day or so shouldn't hurt them, but... It was troubling. After all, they couldn't eat much yet and it hadn't been that long since the female koala and the little kangaroo had been denied food... and their mothers. The kangaroo was still shivering a mite, but he thought it had lessened. Unfortunately, his own shaking was more pronounced. He was sure Angie had noticed, especially when she pressed against his side, offering comfort and warmth. Rollie turned troubled, brown eyes to look into her face and found himself caught by her blue-green eyes. He sighed silently again, then closed his eyes and turned to press his face against her hair. He felt the soft, silken strands tickle his cheek and for a moment, he forgot what he had done and their predicament. He let go and clung to this tiny moment in the flow of time.

Angie reached up tentatively, then gently stroked Rollie's long, soft, brown hair. She found herself moving her hand repetitively, as if she were stroking one of the joeys. She felt, rather than heard, the sigh Rollie made, his breath stirring her hair ever so slightly. Tears stung her eyes. Why did he have to kill? This gentle, caring man? Would he have been spared that if she hadn't been there? She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them quickly. The sight of that man, Cobb, strangling Rollie with one hand filled her mind's eye. No, her being there might have led Rollie to kill their attacker, but it had also saved his life. She clung to that thought. They would have killed him! And then killed the joeys, he tended and protected. Brutally, without concern or conscience. She stilled the shiver she felt as she thought about arriving the next day as Rollie had expected, only to find Rollie still, dead, his warm brown eyes cold, open and unseeing. His little charges' lifeless bodies close by. She closed her eyes and whispered thank you in a silent prayer, then asked for protection on their journey. Such a short way to travel by car or truck, so far to go on foot when one was injured.

The sun was angling down as Mangela stared around the yard of Rollie's small home, looking for signs of Rollie, Angie and the joeys. That they weren't here was obvious. He carefully checked the ground where he'd last seen them. His sharp eyes quickly found where the strangers had come. The attack and the results were laid out, plain for him to read. He closed his eyes and shivered ever so slightly at the thought of his sonny boy killing a man - even a man such as this one. At least he and the beautiful sheila are alive. He took a deep breath and reached out to The People with his mind. The old aborigine opened his eyes and a sly smile, that did not reach his eyes, spread across his face. Soon, hunters would come and they would stalk new prey - human prey. He had a different path to follow. He had to find Rollie, Angie and the young joeys.

He closed his eyes once more and reached out, seeking Rollie's song line. If he could find them without having to track his clever boy, it would go more quickly. After all, he had taught Rollie Tyler his bush craft. His trail would be hard to follow, even for an aboriginal tracker, that most capable of all trackers. Mangela sighed in sorrow as he felt it's weakened thrum. Rollie hurt, body and soul - most especially soul. Taking a life was never easy, but for his sonny boy it was harder than most. That gentle, generous soul was weeping at the loss of his enemy's life. Lacing the grief and anguish was the guilt... Not just the expected guilt over taking life, but guilt over a failure to protect. Protect who? Had Angie been hurt? No, it was one of the joeys. Poor Rollie, he took everything so deep to heart. Mangela reached further, trying to offer a balm to his boy's troubled heart and soul. He started a bit as he felt, ever so slightly, the tentative reach of a new, unknown song line. The sheila? Angie? Well, well, it seemed her song line was reaching out for Rollie's, trying to offer comfort and strength. And it was strong, very strong! So he was right, she would be a good match for his sonny boy. Mangela shook himself, first he had to find them. His eyes turned toward Docker River.

Rollie sighed deeply and silently, then stirred. He sat up and shrugged the blankets off. Much as he would like to remain where they were, they needed to move on. Even now, more of the gang might be hunting them. He wouldn't... He couldn't risk Angie or the joeys.

Angie started to protest, then thought better of it. Their destination would not come any closer by them staying here. It was time to move on. She silently rolled up the blankets and added them back to the pack. Once more she offered her shoulder for Rollie's support. The blonde smiled at the hint of gratitude in the back of Rollie's eyes. Her arm wrapped around his thin waist as the koalas shifted a bit and took a firmer hold on his vest. The roo was, once more, safely in his pouch, hiding away from the evil men that hurt him and his mother. Angie glanced at Rollie's bare, dusty feet and almost cursed herself for not remembering to get the man some shoes before they left his home. Damn it! How could he expect to walk all the way to Docker River with bare feet?!? A tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind, protesting that Rollie seemed to live with bare feet all the time. She silently followed his guidance as he lead her toward the distant town.

Louie squirmed silently in front of Gunther as the big leader examined the dead Cobb with narrowed eyes. The ache between his legs seemed more pronounced. It had taken time to escape the ropes binding him and by the time he was free, the man and woman were long gone, the koalas with them. Returning to warn Jackson had seemed the best course of action. Now, seeing the fury in Jackson's face, he wasn't so sure that he wouldn't have been better off vanishing into the bush, abandoning Cobb's body to the dingoes and the flies.

"What exactly happened?" Gun Jackson asked his cowardly minion. "Who did this? An abo?"

"Don't know his name, Gun. But he had the koala cubs too!" Louie offered. "We followed a sheila from where I abandoned the second koala. An old abo took her to this place, the back side of nowhere. There was a man there with the cubs and a kangaroo. A white man dressed a lot like an abo." He said it scornfully. "We waited for the abo to go away, then when he did, went to finish the job. Just like you said! Almost had him too, but that sheila distracted the Cobb and... Man got hold of that spear and threw it! Just like an abo would." He ended, bitterly.

"What happened to him? This sheila and the cubs? Did you get rid of them?"

Warren shook his head, worried about the cold fire in Jackson's eyes. "They jumped me and tied me up. Long gone by the time I got lose. Thought I better warn you, Gun." His head bobbed up and down, "Uh uh. Warn you!"

"Get a couple of the boys," Gunther growled, his eyes flashing a dangerous light. "We're going to find this abo white and that sheila. This time, I will make sure of things."
 
 

Rollie's shivering had almost stopped, but Angie was worried. She could feel the coldness of his skin when she touched his hand. The sun was going down, they would have to stop soon. It was imperative to keep the man warm. Instinctively, she knew Rollie wouldn't allow a fire for fear of leading their attackers to them... to her and to the joeys. The lanky Aussie paused and swayed slightly. Angie watched in horrified fascination as a snake slithered silently over the man's bare foot, sliding away into the bush. Big Jake's words echoed in her head. "Some of the most deadly snakes in the world live in Australia." The blonde knew he'd told her that to scare her, but she was also aware that his words were true. Maybe that wasn't one of them. Maybe... but she didn't want to take a chance. They needed to get away from where the snake was. She tugged gently at Rollie's waist and he started walking again.

Gun Jackson cursed softly under his breath as he watched the abo hunters make their slow, sure way toward their camp. It wasn't fair! They needed to get rid of the witnesses, but first they had to make sure the abos didn't find the animals. His temper continued to grow at the delay as they quickly headed back to camp. Once there, he sent the gang into a frenzy of activity, loading up the animals and crates of supplies. A little over an hour later, they were ready to pull out. The big man turned to look over the camp with an experienced eye. He didn't want to leave any clues to lead to them. His eyes lit upon the dead Cobb and he caught a glimpse of Louie slinking at the edge of the camp. Something inside snapped and with an evil gleam in his eye, he called out. "Louie, get your sorry ass tail over here! NOW!"

Warren jerked and for just an instant considered bailing into the bush. Jackson's temper was reaching it's peak and he really didn't want to go near the boss man. With a soft whine, he sidled over to Gun Jackson's side.

"We need to distract those abos. Once we reach the tarmac, even they can't track us. Any suggestions?" Jackson grinned to himself. As if the weasel had ideas! Ha! But before he took care of things, he needed some information. This was as good a way to start the questions as any.

Louie looked up at his boss with the eyes of a stunned rabbit. What? "N... n... no, G... Gun," he stuttered out.

Jackson pretended to sigh deeply. "Tell me about this white abo and sheila. What do they look like?"

The little man wanted to wipe away the nervous sweat that was beading on his brow, but didn't dare. "Uh... She's small, bit shorter than me. Pretty! Real pretty with shortish blonde hair... reaches just above the shoulders. Um... Angie. That's what those men called her, Angie."

"An angel, huh?" Jackson snickered at his own words.

"Uh... Yeah, real pretty." For a moment, Warren forgot his fear and leered as he remembered the beautiful blonde's body.

"What about the man? What's he look like?"

Louie shrugged. He hadn't paid much attention to the man, mostly the woman... and the koalas on his back. "Um, tall, skinny, long dark hair."

"What color? How long?"

"Uh, don't know. Dark. His hair was longer than hers."

Jackson nodded seriously, he watched Louie out of the corner of his eye as he pretended to consider the information. Suddenly, his hand snapped out and he grabbed the little weasel's neck. He squeezed on the man's throat for a second. Reaching out his other hand to grab the man's head, he smiled with a cruel gleam of lust in his eyes. Louie didn't even get a chance to squeal as Gun Jackson twisted his head hard, snapping his neck. He tossed the dead body to lay on the ground and turned to the others that were watching with hungry gleams in their eyes. "Dump Cobb's body. Let's roll."

The hunters looked at the discarded bodies with surprised eyes. So, the men who had attacked their friend were dead. They wondered at the ways of the poachers and smugglers. They quickly checked the rest of the clearing and found where the crates had been and where the truck was loaded. A look showed the truck and a couple of SUVs heading for the paved road. They would follow, but knew there was little chance of determining direction once the vehicles hit the hard pavement... Unless they were lucky. Perhaps... The hunters jogged swiftly toward the highway. Men who would kill their own people were a great threat to Rollie and his new friend.

Angie pulled Rollie's unprotesting body to a halt again and tried to coax him into drinking some water. He looked at her with dulled eyes for a moment, not understanding. Fear squeezed Angie's heart. Then, slowly, he accepted the water bag and sipped again. The Aussie closed his eyes for a moment and swayed. He opened them before Angie could react. Rollie tried to say something, but now he couldn't even manage a small croak. His throat was too swollen. The imprint of Cobb's hand was clearly visible, marked by the dark bruise that had formed.

"Rollie?" Angie looked up into his eyes, wondering what he wanted.

The man shook his head slightly in frustration. They needed to stop. To try and feed the joeys. To find a place to hide for the night. The sun was going down. They couldn't risk traveling in the dark. He peered into Angie's wonderful eyes, eyes he could easily lose himself in, trying to communicate their needs silently.

Angie frowned in puzzlement. What did Rollie want? Perhaps, it was best if they stopped. The babies needed nourishment, they needed to set up a camp. It would be night soon. She didn't know about Rollie, but she didn't think she could keep going in the dark. She looked around, seeking some place they could rest safely. Some place where they would be protected from the dangers that even now stalked them.

Rollie looked around with experienced eyes and found a thick clump of bushes not very far away. They could hide there. He started walking, pulling Angie along behind him. Once there, he bent down and began to ease his way through the entwined branches. For a moment, Angie balked, then suddenly understanding, she got on her hands and knees and followed Rollie as he lead the way to the more open center. Sitting down and ducking his head low under the branches, they examined their camping space. Rollie reached over to Angie and pulled out the tucker bags. He offered some dried fruit to her and pulled out some berries for the roo. With infinite care and patience, he coaxed the injured joey from his pouch and feed him the berries one by one. The roo ate them eagerly, then cried softly. He wanted milk, but the best Rollie could offer him was water.

Angie watched in fascination as he got the koalas to eat a few leaves and drink a bit of water as well. She didn't fail to notice that Rollie himself didn't eat anything, just took another careful sip of water. She was getting ready to fuss at him, when a thought struck her and she paused. Maybe Rollie wasn't eating because he couldn't get the food he had brought past his swollen throat. She reached out and gently touched his arm. Rollie shifted slightly, awkwardly bent under the low canopy of branches. Angie wasn't having much difficult here, but Rollie was just too tall to be comfortable. Sensing a need for quiet, she made eating motions and pointed at Rollie. The man shook his head and lightly brushed his throat. Angie frowned at the confirmation of her thoughts. Rollie needed something. He was too skinny to be able to afford to skip many meals. He'd already missed lunch... She bent to examine the contents of the tucker bags, seeking a solution. Thoughtfully, the blonde considered the berries and pieces of fruit. She gave a tentative squeeze of one piece and smiled at the juice that oozed out. Angie handed a piece to Rollie and, as he watched her in bewilderment, took another small piece and put it in her mouth. She sucked on it, pulling the juice out, then spat the remains into her hand.

Rollie gave a nod of understanding and placed the fruit in his own mouth. He sucked the juices from several of the fruits and berries, but stopped much too soon for Angie's peace of mind. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing, she supposed. She watched in amusement as the roo ate the remains of their fruit, effectively cleaning up for them.

Finally, with the darkness deepening around them, Rollie unrolled the blankets. Mindful of his bruised back, he stretched out carefully on his side. With a tug, he pulled Angie down beside him and wrapped them both up in the bedroll. Exhausted by the day, they fell asleep in each others arms. The kangaroo snugly settled between them, the two koalas perched on their shoulders.

 
 Mangela looked out over the darkened land. He hadn't found the young people yet and it worried him. The hunters had found the bodies of the men who had attacked Rollie and Angie, but had lost the tracks of the smugglers at the highway. These men were ruthless. If they would callously abandon and kill their own, what would they do to his sonny boy and the beautiful sheila? He had to find them... and soon. Danger lurked in the depths of the night. He could feel it...
 

Rollie woke with a start, his heart pounding. He sat straight up and, ignoring the branches pulling at his hair and scratching at his face, sought whatever had alarmed him, every sense on alert. What? He strained to hear a sound that didn't belong, a sound that had reached through his exhausted sleep and woken him.

Angie blinked her eyes open in surprise and tried to see Rollie. What was going on? She reached out and gently touched one hand, reminding the man he wasn't alone. Reminding him that she was there and so were the joeys.

One koala was clinging awkwardly to his perch on Rollie's shoulder, trying to regain a grip that had been loosened by Rollie's abrupt movement. The Aussie touched the little male gently, the apology on his face unseen, but the koala felt that gentle touch and settled his grip more firmly. He moved closer to Rollie's head and rubbed his head against the man's neck. Rollie stiffened as he heard it - the sound of an engine growling in low gear. The sound of a vehicle that he didn't recognize at all. One thing was certain, this wasn't Mangela's old truck. He turned toward the sound and considered their options. They might be friends or just strangers, people who meant them no harm and would help them reach Docker River. Or, and this was what Rollie feared was the truth, they might be the smugglers looking for them. Their ruthlessness was apparent from the earlier assault and Rollie had no doubt there were more than just the pair who had attacked Angie, the joeys and him.

Angie was bewildered as Rollie pulled the koala from his shoulder and the female from hers, placing them on the ground between them. When he curled his body protectively around the joeys and her, pulling the blankets over them, completely covering all of them, she was even more puzzled. Why? What was going on? Then she heard the sound of a motor and knew - Rollie thought their attackers were back, looking for them. She shivered slightly, hoping the soft taupe of the blankets would hide their presence. Hoping that in the dark, it merged well with the dusty ground around them. She had no desire to face the smugglers at the moment. Rollie's arm tightened slightly, the koalas curled close between them. They held their breath as the sound came closer. She found herself praying that they wouldn't be seen, praying that they were hidden completely in their nest in the heart of the bushes.

Gunther Jackson growled silently as they checked the ways to Docker River from the place that Warren and Cobb had found. The couple didn't have a car, he knew that already. The only place they could be going was the small town. He and a couple of his men checked each route with slow care. They had a deadline, they needed to find them before the dawn. Dawn would bring the abo hunters once more, this time seeking the man and woman. Jackson knew they had to find them first. Unfortunately, they weren't having much luck. Hadn't even found a trace of them yet! How? Jackson considered himself a good tracker, he'd hunted animals the length and breathe of Australia. How hard was it to find two humans and some baby animals?!? He remembered Warren's description and sneered at a white abo, but abos were sneaky, maybe this man was as well. If they didn't find them tonight, what would they do? What could they do? They would bring the police down on his operation! He'd have to pull out and he didn't want to do that, it was too profitable for him to give it up willingly. He suddenly grinned, an evil grin that made the driver cringe and want to be far away. Very, very far away from Gunther Jackson.

Dave McNabb looked out over the movie camp, deeply worried. Angie Ramirez hadn't returned from her day trip and he was afraid of what might of happened to the young woman. She was the saving grace for "Big Jake" Westmoreland - the only reason Simon had hired Westmoreland Effects. Without Angie, the film wouldn't finish on time, without Angie it wouldn't live up to Simon's vision. Eldon, Jim and the others had told him that she had gone with Mangela to visit a "young guy" - something about the baby koala she had found. Maybe they were just enjoying the day and let time get away from them. Maybe... Angie deserved some joy in her life. It hadn't been an easy one from what Dave could tell. Damn it! Why didn't they just hire Angie? Then they wouldn't be listening to Big Jake's braying and boasting. Unfortunately, their backers hadn't been willing to risk an untried special effects artist.  Ha! Untried? Angie had more experience than so-called experts ten years older! She'd learned it from the absolute best, Manny Ramirez. Manny's death had left a rather large vacuum in the independent F/X trade. He was sorely missed and Dave doubted Angie knew how much the name Ramirez was missed in the industry. McNabb looked up at the unfamiliar constellations and prayed the young woman was safe. He would have some sharp words for Mangela the next time he saw him. Reluctantly, he turned toward his camper and bed. She would be here in the morning - he tried to convince himself of that - Angie was fine. It was going to be a long night.

Angie Ramirez was doing okay for now, but she had been better. As the sound of the motor faded, so did the tension in Rollie's long form. She held her breath, trying to hear whatever the Aussie heard. He lay beside her now, panting, ever so slightly. They couldn't stay here. What if they came back? What if...? But they couldn't travel in the dark, it was too dangerous. The young couple remained where they were, in each other's arms, waiting for the day to come. Waiting for the time they would have to move once more.

Rollie shivered and panted silently. They were gone, whoever they were. He shifted slightly closer to Angie's warm body and waited silently. He couldn't sleep now, in spite of his exhaustion. Pain threaded it's way through his body, stealing strength. He blinked in the dark under the blankets and hoped he wouldn't slow them down too much. Shock still held it's grip on him, pain now joined it, adding to the strain. He knew that the Flying Doctors worried about him sometimes, because of his thin frame and his distance from others, as did many of his neighbours. It was one of the reasons people dropped by his small home. The older residents still remembered what had happened with his mother and... what had come later. The events that they didn't talk about with Cale and Rollie. Rollie had left after that, taken away by his father. Badly hurt, he'd spent a long time in the hospital and under therapy. His return, years later, had healed something around Docker River. Rollie never realised that he had found his way into all of their hearts with his gentle ways. They found peace in his warmth and a quiet joy in his presence. It was easy to bring the bush orphans to young Tyler and a pleasure to watch them thrive under his careful care. It was even easier for the youngsters to play with the tall, lanky man when he came to town or out to the lonely stations. More than one set of parents gladly watched their children play with him and joined his audience when he told the tales that he'd learned as a child from the Yamatji elders and his mother.

The American and Australian lay awake, waiting for the dawn. As if Rollie knew the exact time, he pushed the blankets off of them all as soon as the night gave way to the soft gray of early dawn. With a sigh, Angie sat up and stretched carefully. They gathered the blankets and other things, making tidy rolls. A few sips of water and a couple of bites of food and they were ready to go. She frowned as Rollie didn't even try to get juice from the fruits in the tucker bags. She chewed thoughtfully on a tough strip of jerky. Not the tastiest breakfast, but she would need the strength it offered. Once more, the Aussie stiffly led the way as he awkwardly crawled out from under the bushes. They stood and blinked, then moved silently. They had to reach Docker River today. They had no choice and both of them knew it. Angie's arm slid around Rollie's thin waist, offering comfort and support. Today...

Gunther Jackson smiled in cruel satisfaction at the sight in front of him. Today they would rid themselves of that damnable pair and the joeys. Today would see an end to their problems and they could return to their lucrative business. Today...

Danger thrummed in the very air as Mangela stared out over the bush of the Outback. Mangela and the hunters with him felt it all too deeply. They had to find Rollie and Angie today. The smugglers hunted them and couldn't be allowed to find them first. They had to find them! Today...

Simon Simony wanted to pull his hair out. He wanted to scream and rant as he watched Big Jake clumsily setting the effects for their first shoot. Dave McNabb frowned. Where was Angie? She had to come back soon, before Westmoreland wrecked more than just the scene. She had to be back today...

The town folk of Docker River woke to the sound of a small plane as it circled high overhead. The moment the pilot could see the small dirt strip clearly in the early morning light, he began his approach. They gathered silently to watch. Everyone in town knew about the koalas at Tyler's place, knew that he'd requested Joe Brown call in the state police. Well, it looked like they'd responded quickly for a change - today...
 

Rollie and Angie slowly made their way toward Docker River in the early morning light. Gradually, the day brightened and they picked up their pace. They needed to get as far as they could before the heat of the day slowed them once more. Approaching a rise, Rollie slowed once more and contemplated the small hill. He'd been feeling... nervous, ever since those vehicles had driven past their sleeping place. Now, the feeling had deepened. With a gesture, he pulled Angie to a stop and touched his lips with a finger, indicating the need for silence. Carefully, he shifted the joeys over to her.

Angie looked ready to protest, not because of the weight of the babies, but because she had a feeling Rollie was about to do something stupid. She watched in frustrated silence as Rollie crept to the top of the rise.

Fury flared to life inside the Australian's heart, burning away the shock and pain. NO! The smugglers were there or some of them in any case. Subconsciously, he noted the two SUVs parked on the other side of the cleared bush, near the dirt road leading to town. What dominated his sight and attention was the dead kangaroo and the joey that a big man was tormenting. Rollie wanted to scream as it struggled pathetically in those large hands. NO!!! He had to do something! He had to rescue the baby from these monsters! The Aussie was certain, that for all their human form, they were monsters. To be so cruel and deadly, they had to be! He slithered silently back down the hill to Angie's side, shaking like a leaf in a high wind. He had to save the joey. It didn't deserve this torture.

Angie looked up into brown eyes, no longer gentle and warm. They were full of fire, an angry fury burned deep inside. Rollie was trembling again, this time with rage. Whatever he'd seen was bad, she knew it deep inside. Very bad. Gently she reached out to touch his hand. Fury could get him killed, Rollie needed to be able to think. She needed to be able to think. With a jerky movement, Rollie picked up a stick and awkwardly sketched a diagram in the dirt with his right hand. He pointed to what was obviously suppose to be a car of some sort, then to her. The implication was obvious, Angie had to get to the car. But what about him, she wondered. Angry that Rollie was trying to leave her out of whatever was happening, she shook her head. No.

Rollie frowned, his brow furrowed. Gently, he touched the female koala clinging to the hot shearling vest that Angie now wore. He pointed to the pouch where she carried the baby roo. His eyes caught hers, concern and worry overriding the anger for the moment. The joeys (and Angie) had to be protected - they had to be kept safe.

Angie sighed and dropped her gaze from Rollie's. She had the babies to protect. She had to get the babies safely away. But it tore at her heart, to think of leaving him behind. No, she shook her head again. There had to be a way for them all to get away. "What did you see?" Angie whispered the words.

With a silent sigh, Rollie touched his swollen, aching throat. He pulled his arm from the make-shift sling keeping it immobile. Taking the stick, he wrote in the dirt. Smugglers have baby joey. mother dead. have to save it. Thoughtfully, he paused and considered a plan. you, joeys, get to SUV. Be ready. I'll get the joey and run with it. Steal the SUV. head for town.

Angie at the lanky Australian. "And just how are you going to get away from them? They'll shoot you. That won't save the baby," the blonde whispered furiously.

A slow, devilish grin spread across Rollie's face. He knew this spot. It had been poached before. The hunters would have hidden some of his scent in the bush, just past where the big man tormented the joey. All he had to do was break the bottle. The scent would be a good distraction as he grabbed the joey. If he was fast enough, he and the joey would be inside the SUV with Angie and the others joeys, before the men could react. Hopefully, they'd left the keys in it. If they hadn't, they'd have to be quick hot wiring it. If he had time, he would have preferred to sabotage the other SUV, but he knew the joey didn't have that time to spare. Scent near. break bottle. distraction. meet you SUV. If no keys can you hot wire?

Angie snorted. "Of course, I can hot wire. I'm a special effects expert. It's easy." She looked up at the tired Australian. "Just don't you get yourself killed! Now, how are you going to break the bottle?"

Rollie glanced down at his sling and smiled widely. Looking around, he picked up a couple of small rocks.

Angie almost laughed as he pulled the sling off and placed one inside it. "I hope you've got a good aim." She turned away from him to work her way to where the SUVs were parked, but turned back. Standing on her toes, she gently kissed Rollie on the cheek. "For luck."

Rollie stood there, slightly stunned as he watched the beautiful blonde American slip away. He shook himself and started to maneuver his own way. He'd need to be a lot closer, if he was going to hit where the scent was and successfully grab the roo.

Gun Jackson almost laughed out loud as he shook the baby in his hands. Such perfect bait! It was obvious this white abo was an animal lover. He would never be able to leave the little animal in their hands. All they had to do was wait in the right place and the man and woman would be his. Some instinct told him this was the place and it would be over soon. Jackson grinned cruelly and eyed some of his men. Soon, they could get back to business. He spun around as there was a tinkling crash behind him in the bush. Very soon. Just then the scent hit the others and they started to gasp and choke. Jackson's brow furrowed in bewilderment. What?

A hard body slammed into his, knocking him off balance. Two hands reached out and plucked the baby roo from his grip. With a growl, the large smuggler turned around and reached for his gun. He quickly spotted the bare foot man sprinting across the clearing, heading for the SUVs. Jackson grinned as he pulled his gun and aimed at that retreating back, all it would take was one bullet. Just as he was squeezing the trigger, the most awful scent in the world reached his nostrils. They twitched in revolt and then he coughed hard. The cough deflected his aim and he saw a puff of dirt rise where the bullet hit, slightly to the right of the running man. With a roar, Gunther shifted his aim, determined to hit his target this time.

Rollie scrambled into the SUV beside Angie as the engine roared to life. He looked over and she gave him a thumb's up. He would have laughed if he could get it past his throat as he realized the smugglers had left the keys in the ignition. They both ducked as a bullet whizzed past their heads and spidered the windshield. Angie shoved the shift and gear and pressed down hard on the accelerator. They took off, bouncing over the rough ground, heading for the dirt road that led to Docker River.

Gunther Jackson gritted his teeth in fury. They were getting away. In one of his vehicles! "Get your arses in that SUV. Now!" He roared the command to his men and they scrambled to obey. No one wanted to rouse Jackson's anger in their direction. The big smuggler boss swung into the shotgun seat as the driver started the engine. They were going to get those pests, here and now. No one made a fool of Gunther Jackson, no one.
The fleeing couple ducked again as another bullet flew past them. Angie glanced in the rear view mirror and gulped. The smugglers were following them and they weren't far behind. She pressed down on the accelerator, getting more speed from the bucking vehicle. If they couldn't get away, they were dead!

Rollie held on grimly as Angie swerved on to the dirt road and pushed down on the accelerator. The engine roared with power as she began to put some distance between them and their pursuers. There was the sound of another shot from the hunters and a squeal from the back. The Aussie looked back and almost cried as he saw blood stain the soft fur of the female koala. No! Unable to do any thing except look, his eyes raised to look at the men chasing them. Monsters, his mind whispered. He saw that the small lead that Angie had gained on the road was diminishing. Soon they would be close enough to actually hit someone. Soon... The thought of a bullet stilling Angie's life made his heart cry in anguish. But what could he do? He looked around and under the seat, hoping one of the smugglers had left a gun. At least then he could offer them some small defense. He felt tears of frustration and fury sting his eyes as he found nothing. The sound of the other sport utility was getting louder.

Angie grimly drove as fast as she could, aware of the soft crying in the back and the roar of the SUV chasing them, getting louder and louder. She started to pray silently for the safety of the joeys and the man at her side. She caught a glimpse of something brown as she sped down the road. They had to get to town! But how far? How far was it from here? She had no idea and no way to find out.

Jackson grinned evilly as his driver started to catch up with their prey. He raised his gun and fired off another shot, then jacked and reloaded the gun. Soon. It would be all over. He laughed and his men shuddered at the sound of it. Gun Jackson was enjoying this hunt. Gun brought his gun up and focused on the dark head in the passenger seat. Soon.

Something large suddenly flashed in front of the speeding utility. Jackson cursed as his driver swerved, barely missing the large kangaroo buck that blocked the road. The engine stalled and Jackson growled in fury as the other utility started to pull further away. Frantically, the driver started the engine and drove around the kangaroo, hurrying to try and catch the other vehicle.

Rollie glanced back and measured the distance that had grown between them, thanks to that large buck. He gave mental thanks to the roo, even as he considered the distance to town and the distance between them and the smugglers. Not enough, not nearly enough for them to reach the safety of Docker River. He eyed the smugglers and then his mouth flattened in a thin line. It might work... It had to work! Rollie reached over and grabbed the steering wheel, then stretching one long leg, stomped down on the brake.

Angie gasped and looked at Rollie with wide eyed surprise as the utility slung to a halt. What? What did he think he was doing? Gently, but firmly, the Aussie ejected the blonde from the SUV, sliding over to the driver's seat in the process. He reached back and passed the four joeys to her. Stunned, she accepted them without thinking, placing each on the ground beside her. Rollie paused as he held the little female koala. He gently brushed the soft fur in a silent apology, before placing her in Angie's arms. Angie automatically pulled the crying baby close and watched with concern as Rollie turned the SUV around. What did he think he was doing?!? She looked back and saw the smugglers gaining ground. They would be here soon!

Rollie Tyler gave Angie Ramirez a sad, gentle smile and then floored the gas. Angie watched mutely as the Aussie drove toward the other SUV, picking up speed. Faster and faster, he went. Far faster than Angie would dare to have driven. What?

The smugglers eyes widened at the sight of their prey coming toward them. The two in the back seat shifted uncertainly. The driver's eyes widened and he started to turn the utility. Gun Jackson's large hand reached over and clamped on the wheel, his foot settled on the driver's foot, pressing down on the accelerator - hard. He glared at the driver, a deadly look in his eyes as he pointed the gun at the man's head. The driver gulped ever so slightly. "Don't." Jackson growled. "Don't slow and don't swerve. Hero wants to play chicken. We play. We win. There's no way that white abo has the guts to hit us." Satisfied that his driver would follow orders, the big  man returned his attention to the rapidly approaching SUV. He grinned and licked his chops. Soon, his prey would be down.

Rollie grimly drove straight as an arrow, a spear aimed for the smuggler's hearts. He had no intention of giving ground, of swerving. It ended - here and now. These monsters that picked on largely defenseless animals, ripping families apart were going to be stopped. They weren't going to hurt his joeys. They weren't going to hurt Angie! He would see to that.

Angie watched in horror as the two large utility vehicles roared toward each other. No! No! She shook her head in denial of the scene, a scene straight from a movie, playing out before her eyes. She started to pray for Rollie Tyler. Please!

Mangela and the two hunters watched with wide eyes as the two SUVs surged toward each other. The utilities belong to the smugglers. Why were they charging each other like angry males? With stunned eyes, the aborigine elder recognized his sonny boy, his Rollie.

Rollie reached over and placed one hand on the door handle. Soon. He had to get this just right.

The two smugglers in the back of the SUV looked in fascination at their coming doom. With a strangled gasp and shared looks of horror and disbelief, they ducked there heads down and waited.

A split second before the two large vehicles collided, Rollie flung open his door and jumped. He tried desperately to tuck and roll, just the way he'd learned what seemed ages ago, in another lifetime as a stuntman.

Angie and Mangela cried out in horror as they watched the two vehicles smash head on.

"No!" Angie screamed loudly.

"Rollie!" Mangela's cry startled the stunned hunters into movement. They slithered down the hill, running for the wrecked SUVs.

Gun Jackson lay sprawled in a heap where he'd been thrown from the SUV. He sat up with a groan and shook his head. What? That bloody cursed animal lover hadn't turned! He'd been so positive the man had no guts. He staggered to his feet, his gun still held firmly in his hand. Ignoring the blood dripping from his nose and the pain flaring in his body. Determined to finish the hunt, to get his rightful prey. He looked around with wild, glazed eyes that didn't even notice his injured, unmoving men and settled on a still form about a dozen meters away. With a silent, merciless growl, an insane gleam in his eyes, he staggered to stand over the unconscious form of his prey. With a wild grin full of hate, he raised his hand and aimed his gun right between the closed eyes of the white abo. No one made a fool of Gunther Jackson. No one! Least of all, an animal loving, bloody damned white abo!!!

One of the hunters threw his boomerang, hoping that he would deflect the smuggler long enough to save Rollie. It flew true and hit the large man in the back of his head. In a reflex action, Gunther Jackson's hand squeezed the trigger even as he started to fall on his prey. The loud shot shattered the stillness of the bush.

Angie gasped in horror and tears filled her eyes. They fell silently down her tired face, even as she sorted her charges and slowly moved toward the men. With a kangaroo baby in Rollie's pouch, the male koala clinging to the back of his vest and her arms full of the injured female and the new roo joey, she walked reluctantly to join the aborigines. She didn't want to see that bright light stilled, and yet... She had to know what had happened to Rollie Tyler.

Mangela ran forward, his heart in his throat, and pushed the big man off of Rollie. He gently brushed the dark hair back from his pale face, then reached for his throat. He sought the pressure point and waited, holding his breath. There! Slow, thready, but there. He closed his eyes and slumped in relief. Rollie was alive! His sonny boy was still alive! He shook himself and sat up, carefully examining Rollie's still frame. His left shoulder looked strange, not right and it was obvious that his forearm, which had been injured early and splinted, was badly broken. Sensitive fingers probed carefully around Rollie's head, seeking reasons for his unconscious condition. They found a soft, swollen knot on the back of his head.

Angie walked to stand beside Mangela and swallowed hard. Holding to the babies close for strength, she looked down and blinked. There wasn't any blood. Rollie's face was pale, his long, dark lashes clearly defined. Why wasn't there any blood?

Mangela glanced up at the beautiful sheila. Rollie's woman? Perhaps. Only time would tell and thank the ancestors, Rollie had that time! "He's alive, sheila," his voice was fierce with strong emotion, "Rollie's alive!"

Angie blinked in surprise. Alive? Tentative threads of joy reached from her heart. Alive! She looked more closely at the lanky Australian. He was pale, except for the right side of his face which was reddened. She felt her throat close as she realized. It was a flashburn from the gunshot. Evidence of how close Rollie Tyler had come to death. So close! Too close! She swallowed again and whispered, "How bad... how bad is he hurt?"

"Don't you fret. He'll be okay. His arm's hurt and he took a knock on the head." Mangela grinned suddenly. "Guess it's a good thing he has a hard one, hah?"

Angie started to speak, but froze as the sound of an engine reached her ears. She pulled the babies in her arms closer. More smugglers? Her blue eyes were full of questions as Mangela looked up solemnly. The two hunters moved closer, placing themselves between the road and Mangela, Angie, Rollie and the joeys. A truck appeared trailed by a cloud of dust. It pulled to a stop next to the wrecked utilities and the hunters started to chatter happily. The only word Angie recognized was Bonzer. She remembered that he and Mister Brown had brought Rollie the first baby kangaroo. Bonzer was friend, it was all right. Rollie would be all right. They'd get him to a doctor and the babies as well. She closed her eyes in relief.
 
"Here now? What?" Bonzer climbed from the driver's seat, staring in amazement. "Mangela? Rollie!?! Uh, Doc? Constable?"

Doc? Constable? Angie almost fainted now, a doctor was here! And the police! They'd take care of these bastards. No more fear. The doctor would take care of Rollie and the police officer would see about the rest. She opened her eyes and looked around. Seeing the still forms of their pursuers, she smiled grimly. Maybe after the doctor saw to them too! Rollie Tyler had stopped them well and truly. Now if only he was all right... She watched anxiously as a large, red headed man dropped to one knee beside Rollie. His hands were large, but gentle, as he checked for signs of injury. Another man, small and quick, with thick black hair and bright eyes was checking the smugglers, listening carefully to the hunters as they spoke rapidly.

Bonzer came to stand beside Angie. He patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Here, give me some of them joeys. You must be tired, miss."

Angie raised tired blue eyes to look up into anxious gray ones. The joeys? For a moment her arms pulled them closer again, then she relaxed. Bonzer helped her to remove the pouch and took charge of the two kangaroos. The new one squealed a bit at the shift, not certain about this new human. The first joey shivered deep inside the pouch, trying to hide away. Angie continued to cling to the injured koala. She felt responsible for the little female, after all, she found her! Besides, the way they were clinging to the vest she wore, it would have taken a lot more determination than the humans had to shift them.

"Rollie'll be all right. Right, Doc?" Bonzer asked, nervously. The amount of time the doctor was taken seemed so long.

Finally satisfied, the doctor looked up into the anxiously waiting faces. "He'll be fine. Concussion, broken arm, dislocated shoulder, extensive bruising. I've treated Rollie for worse before." He smiled ruefully at Mangela as he said it. "Now, before we move him and while he's still out, I want to get that shoulder back in place and splint the arm. Mangela, hold him here, nice and tight." Mangela nodded. He put Mangela's strong hands where he wanted them. "I'll just give a hard yank and..." He gave a swift, strong pull on Rollie's left arm, just above the elbow. Angie swallowed as the shoulder regained it's natural shape. "Good-o. That's one down. One to go." He checked Rollie again, making sure he was still out. "Now, for that arm." He carefully checked Rollie's forearm out. "Bloody hell. Looks like he did a real number on himself this time, Mangela. I think he got the radius and the ulna." The doctor shook his head as he removed the remains of the splint. "It was hurt before the wreck?"

Angie cleared her throat and spoke hoarsely. "Yeah. We ran into some of their friends, yesterday afternoon." She nodded toward the big man, lying not too far away. "There was one bigger than him. He grabbed Rollie by the arm and slammed him into the shed. I think he broke it then. His back's bruised too."

The doctor looked sharply up at her and down to his patient. "Did this bastard do that bruising on his neck too?"

Angie shivered and nodded. She still remembered the sight of the slender Australian dangling from Cobb's grip.

"And where is this brute?" The small man had joined them silently. He clucked softly over Rollie's injuries.

The blonde hesitated for a second. Would Rollie get in trouble because he'd killed the man? She swallowed again, before she answered. "He's dead."

"Dead?" The dark eyes examined the American woman shrewdly.

Angie nodded again. "Rollie killed him."

Mangela inhaled silently at her words. His sonny boy had killed a man. Looking at the shaken blonde and down at Rollie's battered body, he knew that Rollie'd had no choice. He just hoped Rollie realized it.

"The big man had grabbed the baby kangaroo. He broke his fore leg. Rollie went to try and save the baby and..." She trailed off as a gentle hand patted her arm.

"Self defense, obviously." The police man spoke softly. "We'll check it out later. Doctor Jock, I suggest you finish, so we can get these men to town and treated."

Doctor Jock started slightly and looked back to his patient. "Right, Verne. Mangela, hold here." Once more, he positioned the aborigine where he wanted him. "Careful now. We have to be careful not to move his shoulder back out. Don't let it move." He positioned the bones to slide back into place, then took a careful hold on Rollie's arm at his wrist. He took a deep breath and released it. "All right." His blue eyes met Mangela's dark brown ones. "Now!" With that, he pulled the bones back into place.

Angie flinched and winced as she imagined she could hear the bones grinding together. Thank God, Rollie was unconscious!

The doctor swiftly splinted and immobilized Rollie's arm and shoulder. "What about that lot, Verne?"

The constable answered thoughtfully. "The driver is dead. I can come back out with someone and collect the body later. The two in the back seat faired better than our friend here." He nodded at Rollie, then hesitated as he looked at Gunther Jackson. "That one. That one is a stubborn one, I think. He should be dead. Should, I say, and yet... Your hunters tell me he almost shot Mister Tyler at point blank range after the crash, Mangela?"

"Yes, it was close. When the gun fired, I was afraid..." Mangela gently brushed the hair from Rollie's cheek. "We made it just in time."

"Yes," Verne nodded thoughtfully, "just in time. Now, Miss. I know we have had no introductions here." Doctor Jock had moved on to check the smugglers, but looked at her and smiled at the policeman's words. "I am Constable Jules Verne with the Northern Territory State Police." He bowed slightly. "This large specimen of Irish descent," his eyes twinkled as he gestured to the big red head, "is Doctor Joachim O'Reilly. Doctor Jock to one and all in the bush. And you are?"

Angie flushed slightly. The manners of Jules Verne made her embarrassed by her condition after their flight through the bush. Jules Verne? "Angie Ramirez. I'm part of the special effects crew working on..."

Constable Verne waved her to silence. "The fine film being made a few klicks from here. Yes, I'd heard about you and the work you were doing here." He paused and looked toward the east. A cloud of dust could be seen rising in the air. "It would seem we have more travelers coming."

Angie and Mangela recognized the dusty, new trucks that came into view. They belonged with the film crew. Angie felt herself relaxing as she dropped on to the ground beside Rollie. More friends? Well, some of them were friends, she thought wryly as Dave McNabb and Eldon climbed out of the first vehicle. Big Jake Westmoreland was never a friend and never would be in Angie's mind as she watched the big man climb slowly out of the second truck's driver seat.

Big Jake was bristling with importance and anger as he strode to stand menacingly over his employee. "Where have you been girl?!? Do you know how much trouble you've caused? You're lucky if I don't fire you!" He blasted the words at the tired blonde in rapid fire, running rough shod over her and not giving her a chance to answer or defend herself. "If you can't control your hormones and let them get in the way of the job, I'll..."

"Westmoreland." The sound of his name spoken by the AD in a quiet, firm voice, successfully reined him in. He glared at the speaker, his fury still evident in his purpling face. But, Big Jake Westmoreland was all bluster and bluff, he would never oppose the authority of even an assistant director.

David smiled to himself, before his anxious eyes returned to Angie and the men lying on the ground. He looked at the man between the beautiful blonde and Mangela. The young man she'd gone to visit? His eyes took in the tired face of Angie Ramirez, the softly crying baby animals clinging to her and in the arms of a man that looked remarkably like Crocodile Dundee and he frowned. "Are you all right, Angie? We were worried when you didn't come back on time." He was careful not to look at her employer and stifled the thought that most of them were, anyway. The scene in front of him looked like something from out of a movie or off the news. Obviously, events had been rough for Angie and her "young man".

"I'm okay, Mister McNabb. Just tired," and worried sick, she added silently. Angie was careful not to look at Big Jake. If she did, she might have to hit him. Not a good way to retain employment. It was clear he hadn't been worried and probably thought she'd been acting like a slut. Hormones! Humph!

"Mister McNabb?" The small man with black hair and eyes that seemed to see everything spoke in a soft, well modulated voice.

"Yes?" McNabb looked attentively at the other man.

"Might we impose upon you to transport my prisoners to Docker River?"

David felt his brows rising. Prisoners? What had happened here? "Of course, Mister...?" He trailed off, uncertain of what to call the man.

The man gave a little bow and smile. "Constable Jules Verne. I am with the Northern Territory State Police." He waved one hand negligently at the other men being tended by the large red head. "These are suspected smugglers and poachers. I expect we will be filing assault charges and possibly attempted murder as well. Your help is more than welcome in this matter. I was concerned about having to make multiple trips to collect them all."

"We're at your service, Constable Verne." David McNabb was puzzled and couldn't wait for the full story, but he knew he had to wait. Now wasn't the time to go into it. "Any time you're ready to go."

"Doctor Jock?" Verne looked at the red head, his expressive face full of questions.

"Let's get them loaded and back to town. Worst thing with those two is concussion." O'Reilly frowned at the man who'd tried to kill Rollie. "This one's in bad shape, concussion, broken ribs, bruised kidney or perhaps ruptured. Won't know for sure until we get him to the hospital at Alice. I'm surprised he managed to stand up, never mind point a gun. Keep a sharp eye on him, Julie. He'll be even more dangerous when he wakes up. You're right in saying he's a stubborn one."

The hunters, following the constable's and doctor's instructions, loaded two of the smugglers into the truck Bonzer was driving. The big man was transferred to Jake's and Constable Verne climbed in to keep an eye on the dangerous man. Rollie was tenderly transferred to Dave's and Angie swiftly climbed in to join him. Mangela settled the joeys into the back with them. The hunters returned to ride with Bonzer and the doctor turned to join Angie and Mangela with Rollie. The calvacade set off, slowly, for town.

Angie and the men watched the babies settle around Rollie's still form. As if sensing his injuries, they were careful of where they settled, not walking on him or jarring his strapped arm. She watched silently as Doctor O'Reilly gently checked the injured koala. His large fingers shifted the fur carefully and he sighed in relief. Just a scratch, the bullet had grazed the small form, leaving a bloody furrow. He would call from town before treating the wound. He didn't want to bring more harm to the little koala. His attention then turned to the roo with his splinted foreleg. He gave a nod of satisfaction, checking it. "Rollie's work?"

"Uh, yeah." Angie answered. "How did you know, Doctor O'Reilly?"

"Jock, remember Julie's introduction. Everyone calls me, Doctor Jock." He pointed to the knot of the bandage holding the splint in place. "That knot is unmistakably Rollie Tyler." He smiled softly. "You know, Rollie is the first one to call me that."

"Rollie?" Angie gently brushed the hair from the unconscious man's eyes.

"Yeah," the doctor exchanged a serious glance with Mangela as he remembered. "He was just a little thing then. Never would have guessed looking at him then that he'd grow so long."

Angie realized the doctor meant tall. So Rollie had been small when he was younger. "What happened?" She sensed a story in the telling.

"Rollie's mother had died a few months before. Poor little mite. His heart was broken, but he kept trying. He'd followed Mangela everywhere. Just had his birthday a few weeks before. I think that made him eight."

Mangela nodded solemnly at the words, his eyes taking a distant look in them.

"Anyway, he'd do anything to help the others while he was with the tribe. His dad had come home after his mum died, of course. But... he didn't stay. Left Rollie with Mangela. They'd done that before. One of the other boys, he was what, Mangela, thirteen?"

"Fourteen." Mangela's face took on a closed look.

"Okay, fourteen. He was a half breed like Julie. Luther... Luther Cale. He was jealous of Rollie, of the time Rollie spent with Mangela. Told the boy something. We never did get a clear idea of what. Rollie said something about speaking to his mum in the hospital." The doctor shook his head. "Well, Rollie followed Cale off into the Olgas."

"Kata Tjuta."

O'Reilly nodded at Mangela speaking the aboriginal name. "Kata Tjuta. He fell off one of the peaks and was badly hurt. It took three days for Mangela and the hunters to find him. Cale just left him there and didn't tell anyone else." The doctor looked off into the distance, remembering the seriously injured little boy in the aborigine's arms. It'd been summer and between exposure, dehydration and the injuries, it was a miracle Rollie had lived. That he'd grown to be such a caring man was another miracle. "When I told him my name, he just looked at me. When he finally spoke again, he called me Doctor Jock." The doctor smiled warmly at his patient. "I've been Doctor Jock ever since."

Angie carefully curled one hand into Rollie's right hand. She nodded as the doctor finished his story. So much for Rollie to go through. Neither of them had lived an easy life. Perhaps that was their bond. She started as she felt the loose fingers close on hers and looked more closely at the Australian. Holding her breath, she watched Rollie's eyes flutter open.

Rollie's eyes opened slowly. He hurt - everywhere. It hadn't been this bad since... He banished the thought. It didn't belong here. He recognized the voice of Doctor Jock speaking to some one and the movement of a car. What? He blinked and found his eyes captured by the warm blue-green eyes of Angie Ramirez. Slowly, he returned her smile. It was all right now. They would be all right now. He didn't know for sure what had happened, but he knew that now. Doctor Jock was here. A slight shift revealed Mangela. He could feel the warmth of the joeys, all of them, curled against him. With a silent sigh, his eyes slid shut again. Safe.
 

Angie watched anxiously as Rollie was removed from the truck and transferred to the hotel. Several townspeople stood nearby speaking in worried tones. A soft hand patted her shoulder, trying to offer comfort. She smiled wanly, before following the others inside, her arms full of koalas once more. At least Rollie had woken on the way back, that was a good sign... Wasn't it? Westmoreland tried to intercept her and force her return to work, but the AD once more intervened, ordering Big Jake to leave for work along with Eldon. Eldon had a note for Simony from David, so Angie was worried about her job or the shoot. David was being wonderfully patient and understanding. He stayed with her while the doctor was busy with Rollie.

All too soon, Doctor Jock returned. "Right-o. Let's check these wee joeys out." He smiled at the worried blonde. "Now don't you fret, Rollie will be fine. There's another coupla of doctors coming out to take over tending that lot and I'll be flying Rollie to Alice then. We'll get that shoulder and arm fixed quick as you please. Some drink, food and rest and he'll be right as rain, ready to tend his orphans."

That lot was obviously the smugglers that had attacked them. Angie relaxed the tiniest bit, knowing that they would be tended separately from Rollie provided a strange relief. Wistfully, she watched the large red headed doctor check out the joeys for other damage. He made a phone call to someone and then shaved off part of the little female koala's fur. The bloody furrow was cleaned and bandaged. The shivering baby was shifted back into Angie's arms and she crooned softly to her, trying to get her calmed down. The woman couldn't help thinking that Rollie would be able to do a much better job - that the little joey would settle right down for him. Angie yawned and blinked her eyes sleepily.

O'Reilly's sharp eyes noticed and before she knew it, Angie Ramirez was being tucked into a comfortable bed in a room next to Rollie's. The joeys were settled around her and though she would have sworn she couldn't, she was soon fast asleep. While Angie slept peacefully, too tired to even dream, Jules Verne was busy. He deputized some men to watch his prisoners and was soon on his way with the two hunters, in hopes of finding the rest of the smugglers and, hopefully, their illicit cargo. Mangela remained with Rollie, keeping a close eye on his sonny boy.

Doctor Jock heard the airplane circling overhead and stepped out of the room with Gunther Jackson. He raised his hand and squinted as he watched the familiar red and white plane circle for a landing. Without a glance back, he headed over to the landing strip to meet his co-workers. The deputized guard watching Jackson stepped out behind the doctor and watched the plane head in for a landing. He never noticed as the big man's eyes popped open and he slipped out of bed. The man didn't know a thing as he was dropped by the smuggler's swing of the lamp. With a wicked grin full of evil, Gun Jackson slipped out the back window, intent on finding the thorn in his side, the white abo that had gotten in the way of all his plans. He didn't pay any attention to the pain in his belly or his head or his side. He didn't care, his brain afire with plans for revenge.

No one noticed the big man slipping silently behind the building. All of the townspeople were abuzz with the news of the smugglers, the young animals, their own Rollie and his new "friend". Jackson paused and listened closely to two women, gray haired, but unbent, still fit and capable.

"Nan, I heard that Rollie is in love with that young American! Can you believe it? Our little Rollie is finally finding a woman."

"Not so little anymore, Ceil. Rollie's a man and it's about time he found some one. I just hope she doesn't break his heart. Poor thing, he's been through so much."

"She's a smart one. That's what I hear. All the better for Rollie, his helpmet will have to match him brain for brain and we all know how smart he is. Why look how he figured out how to take care of that blockage for Mike Allison," Ceil snapped her fingers, "just like that. Two days later, that well was flowing just like always."

Nan cackled with delight. "Oh me, yes! Alley Mike was soooo grateful, Rollie could have had his first born. He'd been positive he'd have to dig a new one."

Ceil nodded knowingly. "That's our Rollie." She puffed with pride as if he were her own kin.

"I hope the boy will be okay."

"Doctor Jock says he will. You know he wouldn't lie. Not about that. Besides, Rollie's a stubborn one. You remember..." She trailed off. That wasn't to be talked about. It was taboo in the town, what had happened to Rollie when he was a child. No one was sure now if it was Rollie's sake, his father's, Mangela's, the Tribe's or their own. They just didn't discuss it.

Nan nodded soberly. "Yes, Rollie's strong. He'll be fine. The joeys need him and his new young lady. Do you suppose we could peek in before Doctor Jock takes him to the hospital?"

Ceil frowned uncertainly. "I'm not sure. It probably wouldn't be wise. Truly and her Tom put him in their best room. On account it's in the back and quiet, the noise from the street won't disturb him. Mind, I hear he's not in any condition to appreciate it from what I hear. Poor thing has such a lump on the back of his head and he's wore out."

Gun's hands curled in anticipation as the two women drifted down the street, heading for the emporium. He could feel the neck of his enemy in his hands. Those old biddies had just given him exactly what he needed to know. He sidled back behind the hotel and tripped over something. He glared down with a muffled curse, but when his eyes settled on the short length of stout pipe, his eyes lit with an evil fire. He picked it up and fingered the short length, too short for any use. Just right for fitting his fist and strengthening his strong blows. Jackson thrust the pipe in his pants pocket and looked up, toward the second floor. There were two windows up there and the curtains to both appeared open. He examined the rain spout leading to the roof. Perfect. He could climb up that to the small balcony encircling three sides of the building. A little careful checking and he would know which of the rooms this Rollie was in. He mentally measured the distance from the railing to the windows. Yes, he nodded to himself, he could make the reach and then...

Jules Verne examined the men they had finally found. He barked at the hunters, "Hold them. Carefully. They must pay for their crimes by the White laws." There is only a small satisfaction as the aborigines nod solemn agreement. Cautiously, he moved toward the two trucks and pushed the canvas cover from the back of the nearest. It's takes just a second to scramble into the back and he examined the crates with an experienced eye. Grimly, the constable began to shift the barrier that hides precious life - the smuggled animals kidnapped from their homes in the bush. A sad sigh escapes his lips as he finds them, pathetic in the heat and stale air of the truck and with the lack of care. A tree kangaroo, two wombats, a platypus, already dead from the heat and three koalas. One male and two females. The male and one female are weak and dazed. The other female is dead. Julie remembers the young white man who managed to be one of the Yamatji, injured by other members of this greedy gang. He remembers the two baby koalas that he nurtured so willingly. Two babies, two females - one dead. He wonders for a moment as he moves the crates out to where there is air and light, which of the babies is truly orphaned now. As orphaned as Rollie Tyler, for all his father still lived. The animals need fresh air, water and food. They will have to be nursed carefully, before they can be returned to the bush. And there's still the other truck to check...

Jackson climbed stealthily hand over hand, forcing his large body up the rain spout. He grinned fiercely as it shifted ever so slightly under his weight. Pain didn't matter. Life didn't matter, save for the mucky life of that white abo! His sole focus was ending that life. All that mattered, the very center of Gunther Jackson's universe. Reaching the second floor, he scrambled on to the balcony, careful to stay low so anyone glancing from the street side would not see him. He bent forward, over the railing, trying to see into the room there. A tiny breeze barely stirred the curtains, but it was enough to see the blonde hair of the occupant of the bed. Gun leered at the thought of the small woman. He would see to her after... After the white abo was dead. She would be his well earned reward.

With the stealth of a hunting dingo, Gunther Jackson slunk around the building, cautiously easing past open windows and ducking to avoid people on the street. Not that many were out and about. It was too hot for most in the dusty, sunny day. He begrudged the time it took to work his way around to the back of the building, knowing that his guard might wake at an