Stretched Horizons

by Ross Richdale

  "I FOUND SOMETHING TO help," Jenny said. She walked around the tree where Bree lay clutching her stomach. "How is it?"

  "Stopped bleeding, I think." Bree's smile turned to a grimace when she attempted to manipulate her body.

  "Everything's gone," Jenny said. "Even my bum bag that had my passport and money."

  Bree sighed. "I've lost my things, too, but documents can be replaced. I have a copy of everything stored on my website."

  "Good thinking," Jenny said and turned her attention back to their more immediate concerns. She held up a piece of blue material. "There are bits of metal strewn everywhere. This old shirt is the only thing of any use I could find." She shrugged. "It's wet but I thought if you pressed it against your wound it might help." She plunked herself down and wiped a hand across her brow. "Stupid idea, wasn't it?'

  "No, it'll be a great help," Bree replied. "Thanks."

  "I reckon we're here for the night," Jenny said. "The rain's heavier. The explosion blew itself out so there's not even smoke now. An aeroplane could fly thirty feet above us and not see a thing..."

  "I know but it's quite dry here and not too cold. Someone will be here in the morning."

  "Yeah," Jenny replied. Her voice sounded pessimistic. "God, I'm hungry," she added as an afterthought.

  CHAPTER 5

  The hours slipped by without any break in the weather. Bree had fallen asleep and Jenny had no idea when darkness would arrive. It was after eight so there wouldn't be too much daylight left. Her clothes had dried but everything clung like shrunken cardboard, and she could do with a sweater. She felt the old shirt that had been draped over a branch. It was almost dry and she tucked it around Bree, then stood up and stretched.

  Without Bree to talk to she felt nervous in this strange forest. It was so quiet! Sure, the rain could be heard sweeping the bushes, the water in the rising stream roared, and a few unknown birds called in the distance - but that was it. The smell of damp moisture now superseded the stench of lingering smoke from the aeroplane explosion. She considered returning to the crash site but the thought of seeing the dead pilot sent shivers up her spine. The one earlier view, of the friendly man reduced to a pile of mangled flesh squashed between tortured metal, was enough. Thank God Bree was with her.

  She sat down again and rested her head against the tree trunk. Not far away, two little birds darted from branch to branch with their tails spread out like a fan. They must be the fantails she'd read about in the tourist literature on the flight across the Pacific. They seemed almost tame as they fluttered around just out of reach.

  The grunting noise off to her left made her jump. She got slowly to her feet and crept around the base of the tree. Something was there, and it was big! Bree said there were no native animals in New Zealand but if this wasn't an animal, what was it? She stole another glance around. Only a few yards away stood a hog, a huge one with tusks and a mean expression.

  Jenny clung onto the tree trunk and gulped in sheer terror. Caution overcame fear and she decided to remain still. The pig sort of blinked, if that is what pigs do, grunted, turned and disappeared through the foliage. Jenny heaved a sigh of relief and glanced up. The fantails were back. Their friendly nature helped to slow down her racing heart.

  As it grew dark, the branches around became sinister looking arms. Only the trunk gave a sense of security. Jenny was cold, itchy, and her limbs were cramped, but she was not about to leave the tree. Darkness encroached even further and the only visible object was a brief glimpse of silver water tumbling below. In the night air it seemed closer. Perhaps it was. Jenny pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. She shivered. Another eight hours of this! My God, it would be one of the longest nights in her life.

  "Okay," she muttered as her empty stomach rumbled. "I needed to go on a diet anyway."

  Her thoughts drifted back to Sunset Grove primary. Christine, her friend from way back in secondary school days had laughed when she said she applied for a position there. All the schools in the better boroughs of London were highly sort after. Jenny had only put in a cheeky application at Sunset Grove, when she had applied at a half dozen for schools south of the Thames River. She chuckled to herself. Those schools turned her down and she'd all but given up on Sunset Grove when she'd received a call and was asked in for an interview. But that was history. She won the position and loved the job, until that bastard attacked her. God, that scared hell out of her.

  "You're deep in thought, Jenny."

  Jenny swung around and saw Bree's eyes, white in the darkness. "My God, don't scare me like that!" she hissed.

  "Sorry," Bree replied. "I shouldn't have wakened you."

  "I wasn't asleep," Jenny replied.

  "So, you snore when you're awake, do you?"

  Jenny laughed. "I guess I must have been. Anyhow, it's good to have someone to talk with."

  "Yeah, the place gets to you a bit, doesn't it?"

  "You said there were no animals here. You were damn wrong, you know."

  "I was?"

  "There was a whopping great hog that ambled through when you were asleep," Jenny said.

  "Hog?"

  "Yeah. Massive brute with tusks like an elephant and beady little eyes."

  Bree studied Jenny. "You're serious, aren't you?"

  "Of course. Why would I make up a story like that?"

  "Sure it was a hog?"

  Jenny nodded.

  "But hogs don't climb trees."

  "Of course not. Don't be silly."

  "Then what's that looking at us?" Bree whispered and glanced up above them.

  Jenny followed her friend's gaze and gasped. Two red eyes glared down at her, unblinking, from the very tree they were under. There was not a sound. "Damn," she gasped. "What is it?"

  "I've no idea," Bree replied. "But I reckon it's as scared of us as we are of it."

  "A cougar," Jenny spluttered. Her confidence struck a new low.

  "They don't have wild cats in New Zealand. I know that much."

  Far off something hooted, and Jenny swung around. "God, what's that?"

  "An owl," Bree replied. "They have them. They're called Moreporks. That's what they sound like."

  Jenny listened. It did sound like 'more pork'. Like the fantails that afternoon, the bird cry made her feel a little better. "Red eyes has gone," she said after a quick glance back at the branches towering above them.

  "I'm glad the rain's stopped and the moon's come out," Bree said.

  "True, but the stream's up."

  The pair continued chatting, while around them, the New Zealand bush life continued as it had done for hundreds of years. Jenny heard the opossum on the branch above them move away on its nocturnal search for food, while overhead, more clouds gathered as the northerly storm swept in off the Tasman Sea.

  JENNY AWOKE, STIFF and cold to find the darkness was replaced by an eerie fog, so thick that trees only a few feet away appeared as shimmering shadows. She stood and noticed two more things. The water was closer; in fact she could see it lapping branches at the edge of the fog. Secondly, she realized she was alone.

  Adrenaline gripped her stomach. "Bree!" she screamed. "Where are you?"

  "Coming." Bree's voice came from further up the bank and a moment later she appeared out of the mist. "Call of nature," she added. "You were sound asleep. Can you come here a moment?"

  "Damn," Jenny replied but walked towards Bree. "What a night. I reckon I woke up twenty times and every bone in my body complained. God, I'm filthy." She laughed when she reached Bree.

  "What?" Bree ran a hand over mud-stained blouse and flicked hair from her eyes. Mud covered her shoes, legs and arms.

  "If Patricia could see us now."

  Miss Patricia McCarthy was the somewhat prim and proper Deputy Headteacher at their school. She was older than Bree and had been on the school staff for fifteen years. Nobody had ever seen her in casual clothes, and the gossip was that she lived and breathed school twenty-four hours a day.


  Bree laughed. "She does take life seriously..."

  "So, what do you want?" Jenny added.

  "Have you noticed the stream?"

  "It's more like a river now. Why?"

  "I went back to the crash site. I thought I might find something useful but..."

  "Go on."

  "The wreck's gone."

  Bree led Jenny along a narrow animal track that twisted along the bank. Five minutes later, they arrived at a small clearing that overlooked the raging torrent. Jenny gasped. Even in the fog the power of the brown swirling water could be seen. Frothy waves carried debris by. One branch swept past, caught the undergrowth on the bank and was sucked under. One end lurched up, water splashed around in a whirlpool, wrenched it away, and the whole thing disappeared in the whiteness ahead.

  "I'm glad we never landed when it was like that," Jenny shouted above the roar of water.

  Bree pointed out across the water. "This is where we crashed. You can see the broken branches on the other side."

  Jenny peered out and nodded. "That's the rock Vince hit," she said. "Half the aeroplane was wrapped around his body."

  "But the wreckage is gone," Bree said.

  "It's probably under the water."

  "But more likely its been swept away." Bree grabbed Jenny's arm. "Do you hear that booming?"

  Jenny listened. Above the roar of water there was a crunching rumble. "Yes. What is it?"

  "I read once that flood waters can even roll boulders over."

  "Okay," Jenny said with a shrug.

  Bree sounded almost exasperated. "Look up, Jenny. What do you see?"

  "The fog and trees overhanging the stream."

  "Exactly. When the fog lifts and rescue aircraft come, how will they know we're here? There are snapped off branches and logs everywhere. Even if they see the aeroplane it could be miles downstream."

  Jenny's eyes opened wide. "So, just waiting here for a helicopter to fly in and haul us out won't happen?" She bit on her bottom lip. "So what can we do?"

  "Go downstream as far as we can. If we stay near to the stream we won't get lost and we'll also be able to see any aircraft that come searching."

  Jenny stared at the flooded stream. For a moment, despair filtered through her mind. They had no warm clothes, no food and nothing to signal a rescue plane, even if it came.

  "So, we're on our own?" she whispered.

  Bree shook her head. "No, I don't think so, but it could be days before a search party finds us. Vince sent our position just before we crashed so they'll know the area we're in. As long as we don't do anything silly, someone will find us, I'm sure of that."

  "Just like school," Jenny replied.

  Bree frowned.

  "Well, no matter how bad anything is, you manage to instil confidence in the staff. Remember that parent who was going to sue the school for neglect and God knows what else? Old Patricia was bursting an ulcer and you called his bluff."

  "Yes. He was a pompous little man who tried to blame the school for his child's misbehaviour. I just pointed that out to him."

  "So, you think we've still got a chance?"

  "Sure," Bree replied. "We won't die of thirst. That's something, isn't it?"

  Jenny had to smile. Now, if only the damn fog would lift.

  THREE HOURS LATER, after pushing through thick ground cover, jumping across rocks beside raging waters and slithering through razor sharp grass, Bree called a halt.

  "Jenny, I need to stop," she puffed.

  Jenny turned. In spite of the drizzle that soaked them whenever they left the trees, most of the moisture on her face was perspiration. A smudge of mud covered it and her arms showed a rash of cuts from the grass. "Are you okay?" she asked when she noticed Bree's face white face and blue lips.

  Bree grimaced. "I've a pain across my ribs."

  "Well, why didn't you say so earlier? Wherever we're going, a few extra minutes won't matter."

  Bree leaned against an available tree trunk and ran a hand down her neck. "It's okay. I think I bumped it when we climbed over those last logs."

  "Sit down and I'll look."

  The old shirt had been ripped into a bandage and wrapped around her middle. Now, though, it was dirty and black with congealed blood. Bree's arms were also scratched and an ugly bruise had appeared on one leg. "I think it's just the lack of food but I feel quite ill," she admitted.

  "Yeah, I know," Jenny replied. "I'm thirsty, too, but don't want to risk drinking that filthy stream water."

  The pair searched around until they found a shallow dip that was dry and sheltered from a wind that had risen. Jenny unwrapped the bandage and examined Bree's wound. She gently pulled away the last piece of material, then frowned.

  "How long has it been bleeding?" she asked in her sternest school ma'am voice.

  "I never noticed..."

  "Bree," Jenny cut in. "It looks like it's been bleeding all morning. You're just about dead on your feet. My God, I'm exhausted and I haven't that whopping great cut. We're going nowhere until you feel better. I'll rewrap the wound."

  "With that bandage?"

  "No," Jenny replied. She took off her blouse, ripped a five-inch strip off the bottom and put it on again. "All the teenagers wear tops that expose their tummies," she said with a laugh. "It's not clean but it's better than the old one." She walked a few feet down to the stream, dipped the old shirt in and returned. With the wet rag, she gently cleaned the wound and rebound it with the second makeshift bandage.

  "There that's better," she said. "Hopefully, the pressure will stop the bleeding."

  "Thanks," Bree replied. She wiped her eyes, leaned back and took her shoes and socks off. "Thought so," she whispered.

  "Damn," Jenny responded.

  Both Bree's feet were swollen. The underside of her right foot had a massive blister stretching from big toe to little.

  Jenny opened her mouth but stopped when she saw her companion's face. Instead, she placed an arm around Bree's shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze, then sat down and removed her own footwear. Her own feet were red and wrinkly but there was no broken skin.

  "So, we stay here," she said.

  Ten minutes later, they heard an engine roar, and a small aeroplane flew out of the clouds. Jenny jumped up and ran, screaming out onto rocks by the stream. She waved and jumped; almost fell in the water in the process but the aircraft continued on downstream. There was no indication that she had been seen.

  "Damn," she snorted. "I was too slow. They had gone before I got into the open. I don't know why I wasted my time screaming, either."

  "You never know," Bree replied. "Someone may have heard you."

  BREE'S WORDS WERE CLOSE to the truth. In the dense bush behind them, Ray had also seen the aeroplane fly up the valley. As the engine noise retreated, a distant girl's scream sounded faintly above the stream's roar.

  Pattie barked and looked at her master with her tail thumping.

  "Okay, Pattie," Ray said. "Go find her. But don't go too fast. Okay?"

  Pattie woofed gave Ray an understanding glance and disappeared through the undergrowth.

  Ray smiled. They set a frantic pace and he hoped Pattie would catch up to them up before they became too lost.

  "Someone wearing shoes like that could only be business women," he murmured. "This was rugged terrain. Especially for someone unseasoned to it." He shook his head. "I'd have thought the pilot, at least, would have had enough sense to stay put."

  He took his map from a jacket pocket and glanced along to his estimated position. The stream wound on for about a kilometre before the water was dumped over a hundred and twenty-metre waterfall. The valley he was in had a dead end. The only way out was back the way he'd come.

  JENNY FELT APPREHENSIVE. Bree had dozed off and the loneliness of this strange forest gripped her again. Earlier optimism disappeared when no other aeroplanes appeared, and the drizzle turned to a sweeping rain that even dripped into their shelter. She sat huddled up and stared at the
steam. The water sounded louder. Perhaps there were rapids ahead.

  God, she was hungry!

  A sound in the bushes ahead made her heart race. Damn, it could be another hog! She was about to shake Bree awake but instead chastised herself for cowardliness and stood up. With one hand brushing the tree trunk for security, she edged her way around it and stared though the undergrowth. There wasn't a lot to see in the dim light; tree trunks spaced haphazardly around, ferns hugging the ground, and those black vines dangling everywhere.

  For someone used to urban streets, buildings, traffic and people, the scene was as surreal as a fantasy movie. She closed her eyes. Perhaps when she opened them again, she'd find her class of children waiting for her to read them another story. That was always a popular time. Every afternoon she would gather the children around and read them a story from one of the oversized picture books in the classroom library.

  Jenny's eyes snapped open and her mind rushed back to the present. Something was coming! "Bree," she whispered. "Bree! Wake up!"

  Bree jerked awake, looked disorientated for a second, and frowned. The fern ahead was shaking as something moved beneath it.

  Both women were silent, watching, until Jenny saw a flash of ginger fur. She gave a stifled gasp. This turned to relief when the animal struggled out from the undergrowth and rose to its feet.

  "A dog," Bree said.

  The Black Labrador ran towards them, stopped and sat down. Its manner was friendly.

  "Hello, young fellow," she said. "Where did you come from?"

  The dog came forward with its tail wagging.

  Jenny laughed. "It's someone's pet," she said with relief in her voice. She knelt down and patted the newcomer. "Hello, girl," she said. "I'm Jenny and this is Bree. We're lost."

  The dog glanced at them both, then sat with her tongue out and lips curled up in almost a smile. Though wet and mud-splattered, she looked healthy and wore a collar. Jenny reached for it and read the label. As well as a registration number it had a name stamped on the green tag.