Commended: Fiction, Lynn Newberry
A graduate of the University of New England, Lynn Newberry is a former teacher, dressage rider and cattle breeder. A life on the land, including eleven years in outback Queensland, has mixed nicely with her penchant for writing romantic suspense in historical settings. Lynn has recently exchanged her farm in north-western NSW for a delightful small acreage on the edge of a village, where she now writes full time. With horses and writing her two great passions, and time to delve into the historical research she loves, Lynn embraces an idyllic lifestyle.
Writing as Anne Rouen, Lynn self-published her Historical Mystery/Romance series, Master of Illusion. Book I (Master of Illusion Bk I) and Book III (Angel of Song), have achieved Silver (2014) and Bronze (2016) respectively, in the Global Ebook Awards for Modern Historical Literature —Fiction. Book IV (Guardian Angel), the final in the series, has been awarded Silver(2018) in the same category and Bronze (2018) for best Ebook cover.
Lynn also achieved a Highly Commended in the 2011 Rolf Boldrewood Literary Awards for her short story The Scent of a Criminal.
More information, if desired, can be found at www.annerouen.com
Writing as Anne Rouen, Lynn self-published her Historical Mystery/Romance series, Master of Illusion. Book I (Master of Illusion Bk I) and Book III (Angel of Song), have achieved Silver (2014) and Bronze (2016) respectively, in the Global Ebook Awards for Modern Historical Literature —Fiction. Book IV (Guardian Angel), the final in the series, has been awarded Silver(2018) in the same category and Bronze (2018) for best Ebook cover.
Lynn also achieved a Highly Commended in the 2011 Rolf Boldrewood Literary Awards for her short story The Scent of a Criminal.
More information, if desired, can be found at www.annerouen.com
The Min Min Light
Shelley wound up her talk on the poison 1080 and called for questions. She was tall and slender, looking more like a model than a vet. But her air of fragility was deceptive. The Winton graziers who had asked her opinion on their projected aerial baiting of wild dogs had reason to be confident that she knew her job as well as anyone, male or female.
By the time the questions were done, it was dark, so she decided to dine with friends at the North Gregory hotel before making the two hour journey to Pandora station, her home between Winton and Boulia.
'What have you done with Jase?' asked her husband's mate, Alan. 'In the doghouse, is he?'
'Bronchitis,' she said. 'I thought he'd be better off tucked up in bed than carousing with you. I've left him some hot soup and his medicine. With luck, he'll sleep it off.'
'That's right,' said Bill, her neighbour. 'You know, you're better than a doctor, love.'
The doctor, further down the table, caught her eye and winked. 'I consult Shelley myself. Jason is in safe hands.'
'You staying the night, love?' asked Bill.
'No, I must get back to Jase.'
'Well, I am. You want to watch out going home after dark. You might see the Min Min Light.'
'Sure, Bill.' Shelley laughed. 'I wish ...'
Her friend Leila leaned forward, her dark, vivacious face alight. 'D'you remember, Shell, when we were kids? How I used to stay with you at Pandora? We used to sneak out at night to look for it.'
'We didn't get much sleep, did we?'
'No,' laughed Leila. 'We even camped out at a bore one night. Scared out of our boots we were! Remember?'
Shelley nodded. 'And we never did see it.'
'Have you ever seen it? Since?'
'No, never. I sometimes wonder if it actually exists.'
'Oh, it exists, alright.' The hushed tones of the speaker made everyone look at him.
'You've seen it, Ben?' Shelley asked the manager of Ayreshire.
He shuddered. 'Once. When I was droving cattle between Boulia and Winton.'
'What? Near Pandora?'
'About halfway between here and Pandora, it was. I was night rider and the cattle bolted, and my horse with them. I had no hope of control. The poor beasts were rigid with fright. Then I saw it and I was the same. It was the most terrifying experience of my life.'
There was silence around the table. Shelley knew that Ben was not a man to exaggerate. She looked at his white face and thought, Whatever has happened has scared him, alright. But that's the legend of the Min Min Light: Always, the first sign is the terror of the animals; then the men see it and are paralysed with fear.
'You weren't looking at it through the bottom of a whisky bottle, were you, Ben?' drawled the police sergeant.
'Aw, fair go, Bert,' he protested. 'I didn't drink back then. It was only after ...'
'You'll frighten Shelley with your blood-curdling tales.'
'No he won't. I've wanted to see it all my life!' exclaimed Shelley.
'Some hope,' said Sergeant Polson. 'In all the years I've been here, Ben's the only one who's ever admitted to it.'
'Oh well.' She shrugged. 'I drive around at night fairly often.' It was a hazard of the job, even out here. 'Maybe I'll see it, one day.'
'Night, you mean.'
She smiled. 'Yes, Bert. That's what I mean.'
She made her goodbyes and left. Two men at a table near the door lifted their heads to stare at her. Her skin feathered as she went by.
'Hang on, Shell.' The fatherly policeman rose from the table. 'I'll walk you to your wheels.'
'Thanks, Bert. You don't think I'll get mugged in the main street of Winton?'
'All this talk about the Min Min Light.' He grinned. 'It's made me nervous.'
'That'll be the day!' Shelley laughed. 'What do you think of my new radio?' she asked, opening the door of her Land Cruiser to show him the new HF transceiver mounted on the dash, before she climbed in.
'It's a beauty. Just what you need, driving around on your own. Might test it out later, OK. Drive safely.' He shut the door of the Land Cruiser. 'I'll call Jase and let him know you've left.'
'Thanks,' she said. 'Don't be surprised if you can't raise him. I doped him pretty heavily.'
'Shelley!' His eyes twinkled. 'I take it this is not a confession of murder?'
'No chance. He's too good a husband.'
'He's a lucky man.' He turned his head. 'Hang on, gotta go. Coupla galahs over there look like they might want their wings clipping. Better check 'em out. You keep safe, now.'
Shelley waved and drove off. In the rear view mirror she saw the two men that had given her goose bumps coming out of the hotel.
Sergeant Polson hailed them as they were getting into a white utility. Acting on instinct, he held them up; checked the driver's licence; the vehicle registration; asked questions.
'Miners,' they said. 'Opal miners. Here for the dry season.'
He didn't like their vibes but he couldn't fault their answers. When he let them go he made sure they took the road to Opalton before settling down in the station. Still with a vague worry about Shelley, he phoned Pandora, with no result. Maybe later, he'd take a drive out there to make sure she'd got home safely.
When he estimated she'd be about half-way he radioed her vehicle. 'You OK, Shell?'
'Fine, Bert. Just fine.'
'No sign of the Min Min Light?'
'No.' He heard the laugh in her voice.
'OK. Just checking. Goodnight.'
'Night.'
Bert smiled. The little girl who had once begged him not to shoot a kangaroo with a broken leg had grown into a kind and intelligent young woman, perfectly capable of saving such a creature. And a beauty, inside and out. The world could do with more people like Shell, he thought, making himself a cup of coffee. He'd taken one sip when the fax whirred into life and spat out a document. He stared at it a moment, strapped on his pistol belt and strode out to the bull-wagon. Those two thugs, he thought. I might have known ... Wanted for questioning over the murders of a number of women in Western Australia. Shelley was out there alone on the road and they had looked at her in a way he recognised: Predators sizing up their prey. He stepped on the accelerator. Why don't I ever learn to listen to my gut feelings?
At about the same time, Shelley noticed headlights coming up behind her. Fast. They drive like maniacs out here, some people, she thought, pulling over to let the vehicle pass.
A white utility came up beside her, swung in front and immediately slowed, smothering her Land Cruiser in a cloud of dust. Shelley braked, fuming; then, as the ute slowed even more, pulled out to pass. Idiots, playing games, she thought. Just what I need! Immediately, the ute sped up, roared ahead of her and repeated the braking process.
By now, feeling frightened, Shelley grabbed the handset to call Bert and veered into the wide table drain to pass on the wrong side. The ute broadsided her, the Cruiser's front wheel went up on a rock and Shelley was fighting two tonnes of out-of-control metal. The handset somehow got tangled with the steering wheel but she couldn't do anything about it. She'd just got the vehicle back on four wheels when she saw the cord dangling free. No help there. She dropped the handset back in its holder.
The Land Cruiser was big and powerful. Maybe she could fight back. There was little chance of anyone coming this way at night. If she was going to get out of this, she had to do it herself.
The ute side-swiped her again and this time she swung the wheel hard towards it, spearing it away. For a second she saw the passenger. One of the men from the hotel. And written on his face was her fate. The pure dread of certainty filled her veins: If she stopped now she knew she'd never see another sunrise.
The ute came up again, stayed level with her. The man was holding a pistol, shouting curses, motioning her to pull over. She held her ground, knowing that a shot would be a more merciful end than the one they had planned for her. Gritting her teeth, she swung the wheel again and her bullbar screeched along their mudguard.
The ute eased away, fell back and tucked in behind her. There was no gun shot. Surprised at her luck, she tramped on the accelerator. Eat my dust! she thought, wondering why they'd backed off. Then she saw: Coming towards her was a single light. A vehicle a long way off. 'Thank goodness,' she breathed. 'Maybe it's Jase.'
He sometimes came to meet her at night. 'In case you see the Min Min Light,' he'd joke. Although, sick as he was tonight, she wouldn't have thought ...
Then she realised what it would mean. 'No!' These men had a pistol and Jase ... She couldn't bear it. Not Jase! She'd rather die herself. She looked at the handset, its broken cord hanging useless. As soon as the headlights came close enough to separate, she began to flash her own in an SOS.
The oncoming lights flared, merged into one, hovering in front of her. She slammed on the brakes just as her lights and engine failed, struggling to hold the unresponsive vehicle as it rolled to a halt. The luminous globe swayed back and forth at eye level with a peculiar thrumming — not exactly sound. All her hair stood on end.
The light came closer, danced away, came back; filled her senses. It has a personality! she thought, admiring the intense, white-gold centre with its gently flaring corona. Soft, beautiful. A feeling of warmth rushed over her. Tendrils of silvery light, like spun sugar, reached out to her, probed her mind. Benevolent. Enquiring. It's as if it is asking ... Oh!
The incandescent ball suddenly veered off at a right angle, halted a short distance away and hung there, pulsating. For seconds, it floated, cold and menacing; then, with a blinding flash, made straight for the ute. The driver roared into reverse, grated into first gear to turn, just as the headlights and engine cut out. He opened the door, but the dancing sphere was pushy, aggressive, forcing him back inside the cabin.
The passenger leaned across and fired through the open door. He kept his finger on the trigger, emptying the magazine into the glowing orb. For an instant it flared, white and venomous, then split in two. One part continued to menace the driver, the other lunged at the gunman, its silvery tendrils sharp as knives. Shelley glimpsed the frozen terror illuminating their faces, heard their anguished screams.
She'd begun to get an inkling of a creeping, bone-chilling horror when her headlights and engine sprang into life. At the same time, deep within her consciousness, came the command: Go! She obeyed, her dust obscuring whatever was going on behind her. Now, she knew what might inspire someone to drive like a maniac.
Some time later, Sergeant Polson drove up behind the silent utility standing crossways in the middle of the road. There were no lights beside his own. Being a man of little imagination and less emotion, he didn't question. Just prised the driver's fingers off the steering wheel and handcuffed him; wrested the empty pistol from the passenger's catatonic grip and repeated the process.
'It's either drink or drugs,' he said, pursing his lips at the dented panels. 'You can't have seen the Min Min Light.'
The driver gibbered mindlessly. The passenger began to blubber.
'Get out of the car while I search you.' Sergeant Polson found some tiny squares of blotting paper. 'Just as I thought: Drugs. Bad trip, eh?'
The crying man began to laugh. Both were eager to be locked in the wagon.
'Hold your horses, boys. Wait till I unlock it. Strewth, I've never seen anyone so keen to get in the bull-wagon.'
But when Bert found knives, ropes and masking tape hidden in a swag, he almost wished they had resisted arrest. Give me an excuse! he thought, remembering the way they'd looked at Shelley. It won't take much. He moved the ute to the side of the road, got out and checked the damaged panels more closely. And if, my bullies, I find white paint on Shelley's bullbar ...
He tried to radio Shelley, but got no answer.
Shelley heard the call. Bert's out there and I can't contact him. I hope he's alright with those thugs, she thought, glancing at the swinging cord. Useless thing! She sobbed in frustration, hit the transceiver off-button and drove her foot down harder. Minutes later, she eased to turn over the cattle grid into Pandora and launched the Land Cruiser into the darkness of the final ten kilometres.
Near the homestead, her headlights picked out Jason, sitting in his vehicle, talking on the radio. He finished the call and stepped out just as she stamped on the brake, switched off the engine and slumped over the steering wheel.
'Got us hopping when you didn't answer your radio,' he said, with a welcoming grin. 'After I woke up from whatever it was you baited me with, that is. Just coming to look for you when I saw your lights. So, I radioed Bert to let him know you were safe. Shell? Shelley?' He rushed to the Land Cruiser and wrenched open the door. 'Are you OK, darling? You came up the drive as if all the devils out of hell were after you!'
'Oh, Jase!' She fell into his arms.
'What's up, love? You're shaking like a leaf.'
'Bert? Is he alright?'
'Never better, as far as I could tell. Full of cryptic humour. Said he's got two galahs chained to their perches, so there's nothing more for you to worry about. Oh yeah, and he wants to know if you saw the Min Min Light?'
'Oh, Jase,' she whispered. 'I think I did.'
By the time the questions were done, it was dark, so she decided to dine with friends at the North Gregory hotel before making the two hour journey to Pandora station, her home between Winton and Boulia.
'What have you done with Jase?' asked her husband's mate, Alan. 'In the doghouse, is he?'
'Bronchitis,' she said. 'I thought he'd be better off tucked up in bed than carousing with you. I've left him some hot soup and his medicine. With luck, he'll sleep it off.'
'That's right,' said Bill, her neighbour. 'You know, you're better than a doctor, love.'
The doctor, further down the table, caught her eye and winked. 'I consult Shelley myself. Jason is in safe hands.'
'You staying the night, love?' asked Bill.
'No, I must get back to Jase.'
'Well, I am. You want to watch out going home after dark. You might see the Min Min Light.'
'Sure, Bill.' Shelley laughed. 'I wish ...'
Her friend Leila leaned forward, her dark, vivacious face alight. 'D'you remember, Shell, when we were kids? How I used to stay with you at Pandora? We used to sneak out at night to look for it.'
'We didn't get much sleep, did we?'
'No,' laughed Leila. 'We even camped out at a bore one night. Scared out of our boots we were! Remember?'
Shelley nodded. 'And we never did see it.'
'Have you ever seen it? Since?'
'No, never. I sometimes wonder if it actually exists.'
'Oh, it exists, alright.' The hushed tones of the speaker made everyone look at him.
'You've seen it, Ben?' Shelley asked the manager of Ayreshire.
He shuddered. 'Once. When I was droving cattle between Boulia and Winton.'
'What? Near Pandora?'
'About halfway between here and Pandora, it was. I was night rider and the cattle bolted, and my horse with them. I had no hope of control. The poor beasts were rigid with fright. Then I saw it and I was the same. It was the most terrifying experience of my life.'
There was silence around the table. Shelley knew that Ben was not a man to exaggerate. She looked at his white face and thought, Whatever has happened has scared him, alright. But that's the legend of the Min Min Light: Always, the first sign is the terror of the animals; then the men see it and are paralysed with fear.
'You weren't looking at it through the bottom of a whisky bottle, were you, Ben?' drawled the police sergeant.
'Aw, fair go, Bert,' he protested. 'I didn't drink back then. It was only after ...'
'You'll frighten Shelley with your blood-curdling tales.'
'No he won't. I've wanted to see it all my life!' exclaimed Shelley.
'Some hope,' said Sergeant Polson. 'In all the years I've been here, Ben's the only one who's ever admitted to it.'
'Oh well.' She shrugged. 'I drive around at night fairly often.' It was a hazard of the job, even out here. 'Maybe I'll see it, one day.'
'Night, you mean.'
She smiled. 'Yes, Bert. That's what I mean.'
She made her goodbyes and left. Two men at a table near the door lifted their heads to stare at her. Her skin feathered as she went by.
'Hang on, Shell.' The fatherly policeman rose from the table. 'I'll walk you to your wheels.'
'Thanks, Bert. You don't think I'll get mugged in the main street of Winton?'
'All this talk about the Min Min Light.' He grinned. 'It's made me nervous.'
'That'll be the day!' Shelley laughed. 'What do you think of my new radio?' she asked, opening the door of her Land Cruiser to show him the new HF transceiver mounted on the dash, before she climbed in.
'It's a beauty. Just what you need, driving around on your own. Might test it out later, OK. Drive safely.' He shut the door of the Land Cruiser. 'I'll call Jase and let him know you've left.'
'Thanks,' she said. 'Don't be surprised if you can't raise him. I doped him pretty heavily.'
'Shelley!' His eyes twinkled. 'I take it this is not a confession of murder?'
'No chance. He's too good a husband.'
'He's a lucky man.' He turned his head. 'Hang on, gotta go. Coupla galahs over there look like they might want their wings clipping. Better check 'em out. You keep safe, now.'
Shelley waved and drove off. In the rear view mirror she saw the two men that had given her goose bumps coming out of the hotel.
Sergeant Polson hailed them as they were getting into a white utility. Acting on instinct, he held them up; checked the driver's licence; the vehicle registration; asked questions.
'Miners,' they said. 'Opal miners. Here for the dry season.'
He didn't like their vibes but he couldn't fault their answers. When he let them go he made sure they took the road to Opalton before settling down in the station. Still with a vague worry about Shelley, he phoned Pandora, with no result. Maybe later, he'd take a drive out there to make sure she'd got home safely.
When he estimated she'd be about half-way he radioed her vehicle. 'You OK, Shell?'
'Fine, Bert. Just fine.'
'No sign of the Min Min Light?'
'No.' He heard the laugh in her voice.
'OK. Just checking. Goodnight.'
'Night.'
Bert smiled. The little girl who had once begged him not to shoot a kangaroo with a broken leg had grown into a kind and intelligent young woman, perfectly capable of saving such a creature. And a beauty, inside and out. The world could do with more people like Shell, he thought, making himself a cup of coffee. He'd taken one sip when the fax whirred into life and spat out a document. He stared at it a moment, strapped on his pistol belt and strode out to the bull-wagon. Those two thugs, he thought. I might have known ... Wanted for questioning over the murders of a number of women in Western Australia. Shelley was out there alone on the road and they had looked at her in a way he recognised: Predators sizing up their prey. He stepped on the accelerator. Why don't I ever learn to listen to my gut feelings?
At about the same time, Shelley noticed headlights coming up behind her. Fast. They drive like maniacs out here, some people, she thought, pulling over to let the vehicle pass.
A white utility came up beside her, swung in front and immediately slowed, smothering her Land Cruiser in a cloud of dust. Shelley braked, fuming; then, as the ute slowed even more, pulled out to pass. Idiots, playing games, she thought. Just what I need! Immediately, the ute sped up, roared ahead of her and repeated the braking process.
By now, feeling frightened, Shelley grabbed the handset to call Bert and veered into the wide table drain to pass on the wrong side. The ute broadsided her, the Cruiser's front wheel went up on a rock and Shelley was fighting two tonnes of out-of-control metal. The handset somehow got tangled with the steering wheel but she couldn't do anything about it. She'd just got the vehicle back on four wheels when she saw the cord dangling free. No help there. She dropped the handset back in its holder.
The Land Cruiser was big and powerful. Maybe she could fight back. There was little chance of anyone coming this way at night. If she was going to get out of this, she had to do it herself.
The ute side-swiped her again and this time she swung the wheel hard towards it, spearing it away. For a second she saw the passenger. One of the men from the hotel. And written on his face was her fate. The pure dread of certainty filled her veins: If she stopped now she knew she'd never see another sunrise.
The ute came up again, stayed level with her. The man was holding a pistol, shouting curses, motioning her to pull over. She held her ground, knowing that a shot would be a more merciful end than the one they had planned for her. Gritting her teeth, she swung the wheel again and her bullbar screeched along their mudguard.
The ute eased away, fell back and tucked in behind her. There was no gun shot. Surprised at her luck, she tramped on the accelerator. Eat my dust! she thought, wondering why they'd backed off. Then she saw: Coming towards her was a single light. A vehicle a long way off. 'Thank goodness,' she breathed. 'Maybe it's Jase.'
He sometimes came to meet her at night. 'In case you see the Min Min Light,' he'd joke. Although, sick as he was tonight, she wouldn't have thought ...
Then she realised what it would mean. 'No!' These men had a pistol and Jase ... She couldn't bear it. Not Jase! She'd rather die herself. She looked at the handset, its broken cord hanging useless. As soon as the headlights came close enough to separate, she began to flash her own in an SOS.
The oncoming lights flared, merged into one, hovering in front of her. She slammed on the brakes just as her lights and engine failed, struggling to hold the unresponsive vehicle as it rolled to a halt. The luminous globe swayed back and forth at eye level with a peculiar thrumming — not exactly sound. All her hair stood on end.
The light came closer, danced away, came back; filled her senses. It has a personality! she thought, admiring the intense, white-gold centre with its gently flaring corona. Soft, beautiful. A feeling of warmth rushed over her. Tendrils of silvery light, like spun sugar, reached out to her, probed her mind. Benevolent. Enquiring. It's as if it is asking ... Oh!
The incandescent ball suddenly veered off at a right angle, halted a short distance away and hung there, pulsating. For seconds, it floated, cold and menacing; then, with a blinding flash, made straight for the ute. The driver roared into reverse, grated into first gear to turn, just as the headlights and engine cut out. He opened the door, but the dancing sphere was pushy, aggressive, forcing him back inside the cabin.
The passenger leaned across and fired through the open door. He kept his finger on the trigger, emptying the magazine into the glowing orb. For an instant it flared, white and venomous, then split in two. One part continued to menace the driver, the other lunged at the gunman, its silvery tendrils sharp as knives. Shelley glimpsed the frozen terror illuminating their faces, heard their anguished screams.
She'd begun to get an inkling of a creeping, bone-chilling horror when her headlights and engine sprang into life. At the same time, deep within her consciousness, came the command: Go! She obeyed, her dust obscuring whatever was going on behind her. Now, she knew what might inspire someone to drive like a maniac.
Some time later, Sergeant Polson drove up behind the silent utility standing crossways in the middle of the road. There were no lights beside his own. Being a man of little imagination and less emotion, he didn't question. Just prised the driver's fingers off the steering wheel and handcuffed him; wrested the empty pistol from the passenger's catatonic grip and repeated the process.
'It's either drink or drugs,' he said, pursing his lips at the dented panels. 'You can't have seen the Min Min Light.'
The driver gibbered mindlessly. The passenger began to blubber.
'Get out of the car while I search you.' Sergeant Polson found some tiny squares of blotting paper. 'Just as I thought: Drugs. Bad trip, eh?'
The crying man began to laugh. Both were eager to be locked in the wagon.
'Hold your horses, boys. Wait till I unlock it. Strewth, I've never seen anyone so keen to get in the bull-wagon.'
But when Bert found knives, ropes and masking tape hidden in a swag, he almost wished they had resisted arrest. Give me an excuse! he thought, remembering the way they'd looked at Shelley. It won't take much. He moved the ute to the side of the road, got out and checked the damaged panels more closely. And if, my bullies, I find white paint on Shelley's bullbar ...
He tried to radio Shelley, but got no answer.
Shelley heard the call. Bert's out there and I can't contact him. I hope he's alright with those thugs, she thought, glancing at the swinging cord. Useless thing! She sobbed in frustration, hit the transceiver off-button and drove her foot down harder. Minutes later, she eased to turn over the cattle grid into Pandora and launched the Land Cruiser into the darkness of the final ten kilometres.
Near the homestead, her headlights picked out Jason, sitting in his vehicle, talking on the radio. He finished the call and stepped out just as she stamped on the brake, switched off the engine and slumped over the steering wheel.
'Got us hopping when you didn't answer your radio,' he said, with a welcoming grin. 'After I woke up from whatever it was you baited me with, that is. Just coming to look for you when I saw your lights. So, I radioed Bert to let him know you were safe. Shell? Shelley?' He rushed to the Land Cruiser and wrenched open the door. 'Are you OK, darling? You came up the drive as if all the devils out of hell were after you!'
'Oh, Jase!' She fell into his arms.
'What's up, love? You're shaking like a leaf.'
'Bert? Is he alright?'
'Never better, as far as I could tell. Full of cryptic humour. Said he's got two galahs chained to their perches, so there's nothing more for you to worry about. Oh yeah, and he wants to know if you saw the Min Min Light?'
'Oh, Jase,' she whispered. 'I think I did.'
