4338.211 · July 30, 2018 AD
The Test Drive
The motorhome smells of new leather and bad decisions. Beatrix drives away from an Adelaide dealership with a six-figure vehicle and no intention of returning it — just another requisition for a settlement that needs supplies more than she needs a clean conscience. Then her phone rings. The voice on the other end belongs to a sergeant she shouldn't trust, carrying news about her sister she can't ignore. By the time she finds a quiet place to disappear between worlds, the day has become something else entirely. And what waits on the other side of the portal isn't the clean getaway she'd planned.
The dealership owner shrinks in the side mirror with each metre Beatrix claims. He waves like he's seeing off a niece on a gap year, utterly unaware he's just lent a six-figure vehicle to a woman with no intention of returning it. The fake phone number she left will lead precisely nowhere — a burner already dismantled and tossed into a Hobart bin.
The motorhome purrs beneath her, all synthetic promise and overconfident plushness. Liberation and deception have always been twin threads in her tapestry. She's never been particularly bothered by which one she pulls tighter.
Then the phone rings. Unknown number.
Sergeant Charlie Claiborne's voice cuts through with news that lands like a fist: Gladys is in trouble. Police pursuit. Forensics at the Owens' property. And before Beatrix can press for details, a warning that chills more than it clarifies — "They're onto me. Don't contact me again."
She calls Gladys. Lies about her location. Warns her to stay away from Collinsvale.
Then she finds a quiet spot behind a supermarket, activates the portal, and drives between worlds.
The shift is instant — Adelaide's grey sky replaced by Clivilius blue. But exhilaration dies the moment her brakes scream and dust explodes around the motorhome. A figure lies motionless in her path.
The clean getaway has become something else entirely.
