Scrublands

Father Swift.

I just wanted to thank you for the laptops.

The kids are going to be over the moon.

It's your job to keep them off social media, Renee.

Of course.

- Promise me? - Yeah.

My favourite couple. How are we today?

It's a pleasure to see you both.

- Thank you. - Those are front row seats.

Take care.

My dad's teaching me how to ride.

- Dirt bike? - Yeah.

We'll fuck up school tomorrow, I'll teach you.

It's been great at school.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

Day one of term he’s got us a laptop for each classroom.

That’s... great...

It’s another bloody miracle, that’s what it is.

I’m bored.

Yeah, he'll be ready soon.

Go!

- Shit. - Get down!

Fuck.

Help me! Help me!

Max. Yeah, nearly there.

Though “there” is a long bloody way from anywhere.

Have you got your interviews set up?

No, just one with the cop. I’ll wing the rest.

Well, the guy was a monster,

the locals might be a bit toey.

Thanks, mum.

I have done this before, you know?

What’s with the dinky car?

Mate. You're dropping out...

I said the hire car’s a piece of shit!

All the office would cough... for...

Max?

Max, you there?

Great.

Great.

Hello?

Constable Haus-Jones?

Second hand is five bucks.

Bookshop in a country town.

It's gutsy.

Buy that and you’re the first sale I’ve had this week.

At least people like coffee.

And I like a long black.

Please.

This Katherine Bond’s got good taste.

Reading this at school made me want to be a journalist.

And are you one?

As it happens, yeah.

Why are you here?

You... the people.

How you’re doing twelve months on.

Trauma porn.

Nice.

So, you said business is slow?

Riversend was just about fucked a year ago,

then journos made it worse.

Well, the event was big news.

But my story’s about the town now,

not the shooting

and not Father Swift’s child abuse.

He wasn’t a paedophile, so you’re off to a good start.

- My understanding is the abu... - Actually, you know what?

That book’s not for sale.

Okay.

Thanks.

Hello?

Mands.

Constable Haus-Jones!

Mr. Scarsden?

So, I’m here with Constable Robert Haus-Jones

of the Riversend Police.

So, how’s life these days?

Constable?

Well, you know, things were tough enough in this town

before someone we trusted ripped a hole right through it.

Tough how?

Droughts, floods, storms, recession.

The usual.

Yeah, that sounds pretty full-on.

But what about downtime?

Community events, sport?

We used to run the kids’ basketball

and footy teams together, Byron and me.

Turns out he was abusing kids

and I was the idiot who missed it.

Well, you did everything you could, mate.

In fact, you've been called the...

Hero of Riversend.

Was there any talk of commendations, promotions?

No. I was just doing my job.

What you faced was hardly all in a day’s work.

Don’t you think courage like that deserves some recognition?

Like I said, I was just doing my job.

I've actually got a shit ton of paperwork

to get through.

Talk to you later? Or see you around?

- Sure. - Yeah.

- Thanks for your time. - No worries.

What do you want?

I... Just visiting town.

Sightseeing dead people?

Well, actually, I'm interested in how Riversend’s doing now.

Did you know any of them?

One on the end...

He’s my dad.

You must be Jamie?

I’m so sorry for your loss.

Can’t imagine getting my head around something like that.

Worse for Allen.

Priest shot his old man too,

and he ended up with brains all over him.

But the paedo's dead, so that’s one thing.

See you.

Wait.

Shit.

And grab about, I don't know, eight of them.

Thank you.

Seriously, Max, the story’s a dud.

Mate, it's just a puff piece

about an outback town.

Should be a bloody doddle.

Yeah, exactly.

So why I am the one doing it?

You’ve had a tough time lately.

This is a chance to take the foot off the accelerator,

and just coast a little.

Coast?

Well, fuck you very much.

Marty, you haven’t turned up a story in months.

Now, upstairs is not gonna carry you forever.

This is an easy gig, so please just do it.

Thanks.

Landers...

As in Craig Landers?

Yeah.

That’s $18.

Miss Landers, I'm Martin Scarsden

from the Sydney Morning Herald.

Can I ask you a few questions?

No.

This is a small story.

I don't want to intrude.

Then don't.

Thanks.

Harley.

Right. What have we got?

Excuse me?

Dangerous place.

Yeah, especially at rush hour.

You’re writing about Byron Swift?

Riversend a year on.

How are you recovering.

- Do you live here Mr...? - Harley Reagan.

Family’s been around here about 150 years.

We’ve recovered from flood, fire, drought.

But what that priest did...

I guess you’ll be writing we’ve achieved closure soon.

Did you know Father Swift?

You couldn’t miss him.

Yeah, I’ll say this for the good Father,

he was very charming and charismatic.

Wrapped people round his finger.

Perfect groomer.

So you weren’t surprised by the child abuse rumours?

No.

Sadly, I was not.

Not that I ever had any direct evidence.

But... Well, the police interviewed him on Saturday.

Sunday, he comes out like an avenging angel.

Yeah. Good luck, man.

Yeah, thanks.

Turn the lights and AC off if you go out.

Power bills are killing us.

Do you have Wi-Fi?

You can try your luck.

Our landline worked, last time I checked.

Thanks.

Enjoy your stay.

Gerry Torlini...

Victim three, Alf Newkirk.

43, shot in his truck beside his...

15-year-old son, Allen, who was uninjured.

Yeah, uninjured. Right.

"A year on from the Church Massacre..."

"...the shadow of Byron Swift

still looms over these dry and desolate streets."

You barely slept.

I’m fine.

Go, open the shop.

How's the pain?

None to speak of.

I could do the Macarena.

Here, let me.

For God sakes, Mand.

Go do something useful!