Hunting Abigail: Fight or Flight? For Abigail, it's both!

by Jeremy Costello

  She’d considered walking over to the charred remains. In the end she stayed away. There had been too much death; she didn’t want to see anymore. Besides, her blackened emotions had little to do with the waste of human life here, and much more to do with Edward – the husband who thought she was dead. The husband who would be emotionally torn to shreds, for he worshipped the very ground on which she walked. The husband who was possibly, at that very moment, considering himself a widower.

  How long would it be before he moved on, met somebody else? How long would it be before he began dating again? Would he remarry, begin a new family, a new life? Would he have the children she had never given him? A feeling of nausea expanded in her gut, and for a brief moment she thought she might throw up.

  And then there was James.

  James wasn’t five thousand miles away. He was alive and more importantly, he knew that she was too. Her thoughts edged precariously towards turmoil, beaten solemnly against the black wall in her head. Her fragile mind had never seen such disorder, had never been put to this kind of test.

  Aided by the waves breaking peacefully against the shore, she began to calm down. Unwilling to show signs of weakness, she had stepped away from the group prior to her impending breakdown. The timing had been perfect.

  Recently any actions of consequence were being passed through her, as if the others had appointed her in command alongside James. This she could handle. This she needed, the power of occupation helping to rebuild her crumbling walls. For the others it was nothing more than an astute generation of hope, placing her in the position of metaphorical shoulder, but for her, vocation was the distraction she pined for.

  Climbing to her feet, she took one more look at the beach’s appetite for chaos, refusing this time to succumb. Emotions raw, she started back to camp.

  *

  Armed with a shopping list from Gibson, Abbey was boosted back into the plane by Eric. The big man was unusually quiet. She wondered if something was bothering him.

  She knew what to expect as she sidled into the murky cabin. The open tomb appeared no more ominous than it should, each body unmoved. She almost laughed. What did she think, the corpses were playing musical crash-positions in her absence? Disturbed dust mites swimming in the air, she drew a hand to her mouth, reluctant to breathe.

  Behind her, Eric and Anthony had clambered silently aboard. What a pair she’d brought with her, she thought – the mentally challenged and the mentally scarred. Anthony had his uses if nobody mentioned religion, and Eric was there solely as brute strength, should they need it.

  In the gloom she eyed Gibson’s shopping list, the entire compilation a mystery. Most of it was electrical; circuit boards making use of ceramic capacitors, trimmer capacitors, variable capacitors, batteries, fuse holders, fuses, resistors. She would also need to find a speaker, lengths of enamel wiring, switches, and to cap it all, a wire coat hanger and a cardboard toilet roll tube. They already had a soldering iron from the toolkit, but no means to plug it in.

  She hoped the pilot knew what he was doing.

  Pushing her way into the cockpit she ignored the uniformed bodies, and instead asked Eric to move them into the cabin. The big man obliged, astonishing her. She knew Eric was strong, he looked strong, but he lifted the two bodies from their seats like they were filled with candy floss. Standing quietly she listened for the static that had alerted Elaine.

  None came.

  ‘What exactly are we looking for?’ Anthony muttered deeply.

  Abbey handed him the shopping list. ‘Gibson said everything electrical on the list is in the cockpit somewhere,’ she explained. ‘He gave me pointers on where to look. He doesn’t want the individual components, just the circuit boards. He’ll take it from there.’

  Narrow eyed and unsmiling, Anthony stared until she began to grow unnerved.

  ‘You going to help me look?’

  Holding the gaze for a few seconds longer, he said, ‘Where?’

  She and Anthony searched together while Eric sat in business-class next to the corpse of a woman. He looked so sanguine, anyone would've thought he was enjoying an in-flight movie.

  It took them almost two hours to find everything they needed. When they finally exited the cockpit, they were sheathed in grime and sweat.

  *

  Daylight had turned to dusk while they’d been inside the plane, and by the time they made it back to camp the sun was losing the battle. Teri’s campfire was ablaze, a handful of survivors surrounded it in a circle, their faces a palette of shifting oranges and blacks. Only Gibson spied their stealthy return.

  With a steady eye Abbey settled next to the pilot, his almost translucent skin more evident. The subtle shivering wasn’t lost on her either, a well dug-in fever having taken hold. ‘How you holding up?’

  ‘Why does everybody keep asking me that question?' said Gibson resignedly. 'Take a look, sister.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she muttered.

  Anthony and Eric joined the others around the fire, James glancing over his shoulder. He nodded to her.

  ‘I think we got what you need,’ she revealed.

  ‘Great! Just need to build it now before I kick the bucket.’

  ‘Don’t talk like that, Gibson, you’re going to be fine.’

  ‘If you say so, gal.’

  Growing concerned with the pilot’s tone, she uttered, ‘Gibson…’

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ he said, shifting uncomfortably. ‘If I work through the night, it’ll take the edge off. I don’t think I'm going to be sleeping any time soon.’

  ‘You’ve done this kind of thing before?’

  ‘Crash on a desert island?’

  ‘Irony’s not abandoned you, I see! The radio?’

  ‘Hundreds,’ he assured her. ‘Bit of a nerd as a kid, wasn’t one for parties. I would stay home and build stuff. It was just a hobby, you know. Better than getting wasted every night on keg beer and cheap vodka.’

  ‘You just described my college days,’ she smiled. ‘On the flipside, if you had misspent your youth like so many miscreants before you, we’d be further up shit creek than we are already.’

  ‘It’s probably going to be my crudest contraption to date, gal, you’re aware of that?’

  ‘So long as it works, it can look like John Merrick for all I care.’

  She watched the pilot trying to get his wracked body comfortable, unable to look away.

  ‘Who’s waiting for you at home, Gibson?’ she asked. ‘Anyone to welcome you with open arms?’

  ‘I should hope so, gal,’ he grumbled, settling down. ‘My wife and I are separated but we’re still close.’

  ‘Kids?’

  ‘Three,’ he announced proudly. ‘Gabriel, Janet and Thandie. Still kids to me anyway. Gabriel’s twenty-nine and has a stake in a retail firm with a salary that would make you blush. And my gals just had their twenty-first birthday.’

  ‘Twins?’

  ‘You wouldn’t guess it. Thandie is the lead singer in an all-girl rock group and Janet’s studying philosophy at NYU.’

  Abbey smiled. ‘Contrasting angels.’

  ‘You should hear the arguments they have,’ he recommended. ‘Thandie insists she’s the only one in the family not a “slave to the system.” I’m beginning to think she’s right.’

  It was hurting the pilot to talk of his family, emotionally and physically. Dropping the subject, she lay back onto the moonlit sand and peered at the stars.

  No matter where you are in the world, you’re seeing the same night sky as a billion other people…

  Her eyes traced the constellations from star to star, and from star to star. Did she feel closer to home? She couldn’t tell.

  ‘Nostalgia,’ she almost whispered. ‘Today’s word: Nostalgia.’

  ‘If you say so, gal,’ Gibson uttered.

  The group around the fire began breaking up, James and Eric heading their way. Eric was gripping the white carrier bag like his life depended on it. ‘We got your t
hings, Gibson Pilot,’ he said excitedly. ‘I found the coat hanger and the toilet roll.’

  ‘I never doubted you, Eric,’ said Gibson flashing the best smile he could muster.

  They watched as the pilot delved into the bag, rummaging through the contents like a child. With Eric’s fascination unwavering, James led Abbey along the sand towards the campfire.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Sol is still missing,’ he said quietly. ‘He’s been gone all day.’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘You don’t find it odd?’

  ‘He’s a grown-up. He can do what he likes.’

  James glanced over his shoulder at the empty beach. He seemed on-edge.

  ‘Why the sudden interest in Sol?’

  ‘It’s not interest, it’s concern. No one should be in that jungle alone, it’s an assault course out there.’

  As they spoke, Teri came ambling along the bay, surprisingly without a lit cigarette.

  ‘Mind if I join you?’ she asked, her eyes still decidedly dark.

  She received only questioning eyes.

  ‘If it’s too much trouble, fucking forget it,’ she grumbled and turned away.

  ‘Teri…’ James said. ‘It’s your fire.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she mumbled, and began warming her hands.

  Behind them, Eric was following Gibson’s instructions, fishing items from the carrier bag and handing them over in the meagre light.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ James said to Teri.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’m concerned about people being out there alone.’

  Expecting some sharp remark, Teri simply said, ‘Couple of bays along, that’s all. Wanted to be alone.’

  ‘Did you find a beach free of wreckage?’ he asked.

  ‘Why?’ she said again.

  ‘Because I’m going over there. Want to go back?’

  ‘You’re going over where?’ Abbey stepped in. ‘It’s getting late.’

  ‘Little project,’ he grinned. ‘Who’s with me?’

  39

  Having managed to elicit the interest of only Oli and Teri, James led the way past the human bonfire and beyond to the adjacent bay. The idea was to find an untouched beach and lay an enormous SOS on the sand, a symbol that couldn’t possibly be missed from the sky. A fire would always burn out, a watchdog would always sleep, but even if a storm hit, a well-entrenched message would remain.

  ‘So what you’re saying is,’ Oli grumbled, ‘we’re here for more strenuous shit?’

  ‘For fuck’s sake!’ Teri’s input.

  James grinned, the moonlight catching his white teeth.

  Despite their bickering, the two co-workers cracked on, shuffling back and forth from the tree line and transferring materials onto the sand. James laid them out in cipher. Made up of boulders, rocks, heavy branches, wreckage from the previous bay, the thing was enormous. There was no way a low flying aircraft could miss it.

  James checked his watch. The minute-hand ticked past midnight as they hauled the final piece into place. Standing back, they admired their efforts.

  ‘We done?’ said Teri impatiently.

  ‘Oh, we’re done,’ Oli wheezed. ‘I’m not lifting another finger tonight.’

  The two of them fell to the sand at gravity’s request.

  ‘Man, I am whacked,’ the student added. ‘I think Eric and Sebastian would be far more capable if you had the crazy notion of, oh I don’t know, doing more of this.’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ James replied, grinning. He waited while Oli and Teri caught their breath, neither of them seemingly willing to move, before suggesting they headed back to camp.

  ‘One more minute,’ Oli begged.

  ‘Fuck that, man, I’m all set!’ Teri climbed to her feet and lit a cigarette. ‘I'm not fucking staying out here all night.’

  ‘Ever the charmer, Te -’ James double-took the tree line.

  ‘What is it?’ Oli asked.

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Did you guys see that?’

  Eying the trees, Oli frowned. ‘What’re we looking for?’

  ‘Freak,’ Teri threw in.

  James didn’t respond. The beach seemed to slow down as if in stasis.

  ‘James, you’re freaking me out here,’ said Oli nervously. ‘What the hell’s going on?’

  ‘Call me crazy,’ James murmured,’ but I just saw something in the trees.’

  ‘Saw what exactly?’

  ‘I think somebody’s had a loooong day,’ Teri suggested impatiently.

  ‘I didn’t imagine it!’ James said calmly. ‘I looked to the trees and saw movement. I thought I was mistaken. When I looked back, it was there, large as life.’

  ‘What was there?’

  ‘A light,’ he muttered. ‘The faint glow of a light.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ Teri groaned.

  ‘You’ve had too much sun, man.’

  ‘Jesus, Oli, I know what I saw. somebody was standing right there in those trees, watching us!'

  ‘So it was someone from the camp,’ Teri suggested through a plume of blue smoke.

  ‘Yeah,’ Oli agreed. ‘Who was still awake when we left?’

  ‘Or what about that fucking loser who’s never around,’ Teri added. ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Oli. ‘You saw that Australian guy with the long hair, erm…’

  ‘Sol,’ James finished. ‘Yeah, maybe. But why hide from us, huh? The man’s odd, not creepy.’

  Oli sat up. ‘James, what do you even know about Sol? Maybe he’s the kind of guy who likes the whole voyeurism thing. Perhaps he just likes checking out sweaty men carting shit about. He’s probably watching us right now, whacking one off.’

  Teri sniggered.

  Shutting out Oli’s foolish words, James kept his eyes trained on the trees.

  ‘Listen, James,’ if you saw something in the trees, you would’ve seen it again by now, right? There’s nobody out there, man, I’ll stake my reputation on it.’

  ‘You don’t have a reputation.’

  ‘Well I'll acquire one from this situation.’

  ‘I know what I saw,’ James said stubbornly.

  ‘Whatever you say, captain.’ The student climbed to his feet. ‘It’s time for Oli to flake.’

  ‘A-fucking-men,’ Teri added.

  ‘You two go,’ James uttered. ‘I’ll be right behind you.’

  ‘Safety in numbers, man, remember?’

  When James didn't reply, Oli began walking across the expanse of white sand, tattooed girl silently in tow.

  Firmly rooted, James eyed the trees for several more minutes, praying something moved or shone again, but the more he stared, the more his optimism faded. Nothing seemed out of place in the eerily still night, nothing moved, yet he couldn’t shake the chilling notion that he was being watched. Oli and Teri were already reaching the end of the bay, walking silently side-by-side. He followed in their tracks, every few steps glancing over his shoulder.

  The beach remained vacant.

  40

  The most obvious change to the camp in their absence was the extra personnel. Beside the fire, twenty yards from Gibson and Eric, was Sol Delaney thoughtfully chewing a banana. He shoved in the last mouthful unceremoniously as James approached, and tossed the yellow skin into the flames. Wearing only a pair of knee-length denim shorts and a Stars and Stripes bandana, he braved the chilly night with only the amber glow of the campfire for warmth.

  Hands out to the heat, James took a seat across the flames. ‘Hey.’

  A grunt.

  ‘How long have you been back?’

  A shrug.

  ‘Am I invisible, Sol?’ James pressed. ‘I asked you a question.’

  Sol exhaled impatiently. ‘I don’t know the answer, man. Can’t a brother get some peace at one in the morning?’

  ‘Yeah, no problem. I’ll leave you alone when you answer my question.’

  ‘Fuck knows, dude. An hour ago, or so
mething.’

  ‘One hour? You sure?’

  ‘That’s what I said,’ the Australian grumbled sleepily.

  ‘And if I ask Gibson the same question, what do you suppose he’ll say?’

  ‘I don’t think Gibson’s been anywhere, dude, he’s like all fucked up.’

  ‘About you, Sol.’

  ‘He can tell you what he wants,’ said Sol calmly. ‘I’ve been here, man.’

  James didn't think the Australian was lying, he didn’t look capable – which meant he hadn’t been loitering in the trees three bays along either. Changing tack, he said, ‘Where do you keep disappearing to, Sol?’

  ‘Ah dude, more questions? You said you’d bail.’

  ‘I know what I said.’

  ‘So fuck off then!’

  ‘It’s about time you told me where you go all day. These people are scared, and if they find out somewhere down the line that you’re hiding useful information from them, I imagine you’re going to get lynched.’

  Sol looked uneasy. ‘I like my alone time, dude, what do you want me to say?’

  ‘That’s it, alone time?’

  ‘That’s it.’

  Unwittingly interrupting the conversation, Eric came running over to reheat the soldering iron. Breaking eye contact with Sol, James said, ‘How’s the transmitter coming along, Eric?’

  ‘Erm…’ the big man seemed aware of the tension into which he'd walked. ‘I’m helping Gibson Pilot. He said I’m a good ass…ass…’

  ‘Assistant?’

  ‘I like Gibson Pilot. He’s been teaching me all sorts of neat things – Ouch…’ Eric leaned too far into the fire. Sol turned away sniggering.

  Following Eric over to the pilot James noticed Teri down by the shore, alone, lit cigarette glowing. Oli had vanished.

  The pilot’s damp brow didn’t seem plausible in the evening chill, the inky smudges beneath his eyes sinking away into his dark skin. James said, ‘How’s it going?’