‘I want Damian to get the same treatment as Mathew,’ Paul said quietly. His voice was breaking with emotion as he recalled the swing of the axe when Damian executed his son.
‘They’ll have a fair trial,’ Diana said.
‘When?’
‘A week today.’
‘What’s going to happen to them in the meantime?’
‘They will be kept locked in their individual cells. Paul, you can tell them they are going to be tried for their crimes.’
Diana rose, indicating the meeting was over. Duncan had not had the chance to discuss the tunics.
20
Mark and Steven ran down the hill towards the sound of the rifle shot. It was not until their third shot was returned that the truth dawned on them both. The feeling of disappointment as they stopped running threatened to overwhelm them.
Aboard Archangel the crew lined up along the starboard side, looking excitedly in the direction of the shots they had been answering. They watched in silence as Mark and Steven launched the dinghy and began to row back towards them, their progress seeming painfully slow.
‘Any sign?’ Fergus asked as the dingy finally drew alongside.
Mark shook his head.
‘We found Uncle Christopher’s body,’ Steven explained, ‘but no one else.’
‘Perhaps they’ve moved elsewhere,’ Jessica suggested as Mark and Steven clambered aboard.
‘Perhaps,’ Steven said, but they all noted the lack of conviction in his voice.
Allison took Mark in her arms. ‘I’m so sorry.’
He merely nodded his head. He seemed exhausted.
‘Can we go ashore now?’ Tommy asked.
‘Yes, let’s go ashore,’ shouted Lee, who began jumping up and down excitedly.
‘It’s getting late,’ Steven said. ‘We’ll go ashore in the morning and have a funeral service for Uncle Christopher.’
‘And then what?’ Penny asked.
‘Then we keep searching,’ Mark said quickly.
‘And if we can’t find anyone?’
‘Then we still keep searching.’
‘And we start rebuilding,’ Steven added.
‘But surely if we can’t find any survivors, the only sensible course of action is to return to Haver?’
‘Let’s get dinner,’ Penny said quickly. ‘Now is not the time to start getting ahead of ourselves.’
Fergus rowed Mark and Steven ashore at first light.
‘Give us an hour or so before you start ferrying everyone else ashore,’ Steven told Fergus as he dropped them off beside the canal houses. ‘It’ll give us time to prepare the body.’
Steven and Mark set off in the direction of their former home while Fergus began the long row back out to Archangel.
‘Why don’t you carry on searching, Dad — I’ll look after Uncle Christopher,’ Steven suggested.
Mark nodded. He had hardly said a word since his exchange with Allison the night before. He wanted to continue searching even though he knew in his heart it might be hopeless. And he didn’t want to face the task of burying his brother.
‘Good luck,’ Steven said as his father walked away.
Without Steven at his side, Mark found the desolation and destruction seemed even more devastating, his loneliness even more acute. He picked his way over the rubble, hoping that he would find some sign of his family, but at the same time dreading what he might find. He was also weighing up their options, wondering whether they should stay at Gulf Harbour or move somewhere else in the Auckland area. Returning to Haver was not an option as far as he was concerned.
He checked the few buildings still standing on the eastern side of the canal, but found no signs that indicated his family had survived. Then he made his way around the western side of the canal and along the edge of the bay to the tangle of masts and broken hulls that had been deposited on the spit between Kotanui Island and the shore. As he clambered over the wreckage, he picked out the names of vessels he had once known well — Chokawalla, Ikaria and Cockspur among them — but there was no sign of his own boat, the twelve-metre motor-sailer Raconteur. Perhaps that was a good sign — they could have escaped the tsunami by boat. But then he realised the volume of debris was so massive that the remains of the boat could easily be buried at the bottom of the pile.
As he returned to the canal and began walking up the hill towards the farm, he heard dogs yelping. He looked up and saw a pack of large dogs lolloping up the hill, chasing a lone sheep. They caught it before it reached the summit, the yelping intensifying as they ripped the poor beast to pieces with a ferocity that astounded him. It dawned on him why the platform on the golf course had been built and why the rifle and ammunition had been stored in the shed. Suddenly conscious of his own vulnerability, he turned and hurried back towards the townhouses.
‘You’re back sooner than I thought,’ Steven said as his father walked into the house. He was pleased he had at least completed the unpleasant task of inserting his uncle’s decomposed body into a sleeping bag he had found in one of the bedrooms.
‘There’s a pack of dogs up on the golf course.’
‘I’ve never known you to be frightened of dogs before.
‘Anyone would be frightened of these dogs,’ Mark said grimly. ‘We’ll need to wipe them out. They’re obviously why Christopher built that platform on the golf course — they were trying to protect the stock.’
‘So you intend to stay in Gulf Harbour?’ Steven said tentatively.
‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Allison doesn’t sound too keen. I’m not sure about Fergus and Jessica, but Penny’s also talking about wanting to go home to her family.’
‘What’s wrong with them? Don’t they remember what Haver was like?’
‘Penny believes that if we go back, we can take the Chatfields by surprise, disarm them, install democracy and then everything will be hunky-dory.’
‘Well, we’re not going back,’ Mark said firmly. ‘We’re going to stay here and find Jane and the children and everyone else.’
Steven did not respond to his father’s statement. Now was not the time to debate the issue. ‘Where do you want to bury Uncle Christopher?’
‘Up on the hill, overlooking Kotunui Island. We’ll have to wait until we get the rifles from Archangel before we venture up there, though.’
‘How many dogs were there in the pack?’
‘Twenty or so. There could be other packs too.’
‘Then we’ve got a problem,’ Steven said. ‘We’re almost out of ammunition.’
Mark nodded. ‘I know. I had a good look for ammunition in Cape Town. Heaven knows there were enough guns in that city, yet I couldn’t find a single bullet.’
‘We know there’s no more ammunition on the peninsula from when we’ve searched in the past. We’re going to have to find some other way of defending ourselves. Maybe we’ll have to go back to bows and arrows.’
‘What’s this about bows and arrows?’
They turned around to see Fergus, who had returned with Jessica and the two young boys, Lee and Tommy.
‘There’s a pack of dogs roaming the peninsula. We need the rifles from Archangel,’ Steven explained. ‘I’ll row back now and collect them, and get Allison and Penny.’
‘What’s in there?’ Tommy asked, looking inquisitively at the sleeping bag.
‘Do you want to go exploring?’ said his mother quickly.
‘Yes, let’s go exploring!’ shouted Lee. The boys were excited to be back on dry land.
‘Stay together and near to the canal,’ Mark said. He turned to Fergus. ‘Grab something to defend yourselves — just in case those dogs come down the hill. And keep your eyes open.’
As Steven rowed out to the boat, he pondered what they should do next. He felt sure that even if the family had survived the tsunami, they were no longer living in the Gulf Harbour area. It seemed inconceivable that they would have left without burying Christopher’s body or leaving some message as
to where they had gone. He concluded that they must be dead.
He had expected to find the Gulf Harbour settlement exactly as they had left it. Now everything was gone. They had to start all over again. And it would be harder this time. The systems he had set up had relied on batteries and solar power panels salvaged from boats. He guessed that the other marinas around Auckland had also been destroyed. Perhaps they should head further south to Wellington, or even the South Island, and assess the situation there.
And if none of their New Zealand family had survived and they had to re-establish a base all over again, maybe Allison was right. Perhaps they should simply turn around and sail back to England.
‘Any sign?’ Allison asked as Steven came alongside Archangel.
He shook his head. ‘But we haven’t had a chance to have a good look around. There’s a pack of dogs causing problems.’
Allison and Penny passed down the picnic basket they had prepared, scrambled into the dinghy and waited while Steven clambered aboard Archangel to retrieve three rifles and the remaining ammunition.
‘What’s going to happen if there aren’t any survivors?’ Allison asked as they rowed ashore.
‘I guess we’ll have to start all over again,’ Steven replied.
Penny started to cry softly. ‘I want to go back to England,’ she said.
‘It doesn’t make sense to stay in New Zealand if there’s no one else here,’ Allison added, as Steven stopped rowing and leant forward to comfort Penny. ‘Your father has always insisted that our survival is dependent upon a sustainable pool of genes. He’s lost Adam, Luke and Robert, and now you’ve lost the rest of your own family.’
‘Maybe not,’ Steven said quickly. ‘Anyway, we can always go back to Brisbane and get the Daltons.’
‘Assuming they’re still alive.’ Steven stared at her. ‘I overheard Lily and Sophia telling your father about Corky,’ she continued. ‘Sounds like he’s a nasty piece of work.’
‘It’s a mess, a total mess,’ Penny sobbed. ‘I want to go home.’
Steven felt shattered. He was torn between the wishes of his father and his lover. ‘We’ll just have to wait and see what happens,’ was all he could think of to say.
By the time Steven, Penny and Allison reached the shore, Fergus, Jessica and the two children had returned to the house and helped Mark construct an improvised stretcher from salvaged debris. Mark noticed Penny’s red eyes as she arrived, but said nothing.
Fergus and Steven lifted the sleeping bag onto the stretcher. With Mark, Jessica and Penny carrying the three loaded rifles, and Allison carrying a twisted spade that Mark had found amongst the debris, the small party wound its way up the hill.
They were all silent, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Despite not knowing who was being buried, even the children seemed to detect the sadness of the occasion. At the top of the hill, overlooking the bay and island, Steven and Fergus took it in turns to dig the grave. They could hear the yelping of dogs, but the pack was out of sight and seemed to be some way off.
‘Make it good and deep,’ Mark said. ‘I don’t want the dogs digging him up.’
Finally Mark was satisfied. He nodded to Steven who, sweating and tired, hauled himself out of the grave. Allison opened the prayer book she had brought from Archangel and prayed for their family in England before commencing the burial service. Steven coughed to catch her attention, mouthing the word ‘Jane’, and Allison responded by carefully weaving prayers for the safety of the New Zealand Chatfields into the service. Then she paused and nodded to Steven and Fergus, who lifted the sleeping bag and lowered it gently into the grave. Steven wished Allison would hurry up and conclude the service: the dogs were getting closer and he didn’t want to be firing off shots during the committal.
At last Allison was finished. Fergus picked up the spade and began to shovel earth into the grave. He too was in a hurry to get back to the safety of Archangel. As he shovelled furiously, he noticed a movement on the hill opposite. He could hardly believe his eyes. ‘Look, over there!’ he yelled, dropping the spade and running to grab one of the rifles.
Everyone spun around. On the top of the hill opposite were a group of small figures, surrounded by a pack of snarling dogs.
21
‘It’s the children,’ yelled Mark, grabbing a rifle himself and setting off at breakneck speed down the hill, the remainder of the family in hot pursuit. Fergus stopped and fired a shot over their heads towards the dogs, but missed. He lowered his rifle and set off running again.
It seemed an age before Mark got close enough to safely let off a shot at the dogs. He missed too. Fergus, Steven and Allison ran past him, waving their arms and yelling at the top of their voices to distract the animals, so Mark ran back towards Penny and Jessica, who were following with Tommy and Lee. He thrust his rifle into Penny’s hands.
‘Stay here with the boys until we’ve sorted out the dogs,’ he ordered. Then he turned and ran after the others.
Now they were closer they could see Zach, Nicole, Holly and Zoë were standing in a circle, thrusting the prongs of garden forks at the snarling dogs. In the centre of the circle cowered Audrey and Gina.
Two hundred metres from the children, Fergus and Steven knelt and carefully let off a volley. Three dogs fell and another yelped pitifully. Mark and Allison caught them up and the four surged forward together, shouting and waving. Reluctantly the dogs backed away from the children and loped off.
Zach and Nicole dropped their forks and began running towards their grandfather.
‘Don’t let them near you!’ Allison yelled. ‘Remember what happened to Sophia and Lily.’
Mark turned and started to run away from his distressed and confused grandchildren. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ he called as tears streamed down his face.
Nicole changed direction and ran towards Steven. He had heard Allison’s warning and also turned and ran away, shouting ‘Don’t come near me!’ Bewildered, the children hurried back towards their cousins, and slumped, sobbing, on the grass.
Allison approached the children and sat down on the grass a few metres away. She beckoned Mark, Steven and Fergus to join her and when Penny and Jessica arrived with Lee and Tommy, they sat down too. The arrival of other children seemed to calm Zach and Nicole.
Mark desperately wanted to hold his grandchildren, but he knew he couldn’t. He was surprised at how much they’d grown since his departure eighteen months earlier. Zach and Nicole, now almost twelve and ten respectively, had inherited their father’s genes and were tall for their age. Audrey, who had been a babe in arms when Archangel sailed for England, was now two years old and looked a little red-haired tomboy. His niece Sarah’s children, nine-year-old Holly and seven-year-old Zoë, also possessed the telltale Chatfield features, but with their darker skins there was no mistaking their father’s Maori ancestry. They were also short for their age. All six children were thin, their clothes ripped and grubby, their hair long and matted. Mark was particularly alarmed at the appearance of his niece Katie’s five-year-old daughter Gina. She looked ill, and he wondered what the marks were on her legs.
‘Zach, Nicole — it’s so good to see you,’ Mark said softly. ‘I’m sorry I ran away from you just now, but we had some illness aboard Archangel and we need to make sure it’s gone before we touch you. Do you understand?’
Zach nodded his head. Gently, Mark introduced the Gulf Harbour children to their English relatives.
‘Mummy’s dead,’ Nicole said.
Holly was trying to control her tears. ‘So is my mummy,’ she sobbed.
‘And mine,’ Gina added.
All the children started crying and Mark wished desperately that he could comfort them.
The dogs had regrouped and were standing at the top of the hill, barking. Steven and Fergus checked their rifles and the children huddled closer together.
‘You’re safe now,’ Mark reassured them. ‘Now, Zach, tell me what happened.’
Zach opened his mouth
to reply, but Allison interrupted.
‘Are you children hungry?’
‘We haven’t had anything to eat for days,’ Gina said.
‘You have — I gave you oysters,’ Zach said defensively.
‘I hate oysters.’
‘They can eat some of the food we brought ashore,’ Allison said to Mark. ‘Let’s take them back to the house.’
Mark was anxious to find out what had happened, but realised Allison was right. He stood up. ‘All right, we’re going to walk back down to Harbour Village Drive — we can talk there. I want you children to walk together, ahead of us. The rest of us will walk behind and make sure the dogs don’t come back.’
The children stood up, still clutching their garden forks.
‘You won’t need those — we’ll look after you,’ Steven said kindly.
The children looked up the hill at the dogs. Gina took Audrey’s hand and the party moved off with Zach and Nicole leading the way and Holly and Zoë bringing up the rear. They walked in formation, their weapons at the ready. They were seasoned campaigners.
‘What now?’ Steven asked Mark, as the Archangel crew walked a short distance behind the marching column.
‘We daren’t take them aboard the boat,’ Allison said quickly.
Mark stared ahead. ‘We’ll bunk them down in the bedrooms at the townhouses tonight, and mount a guard on the stairs in case the dogs follow us down later.’
‘We can’t keep them in quarantine indefinitely,’ Fergus said.
‘Should we quarantine them at all? We can’t be sure we’re carrying a disease,’ Penny added. ‘Perhaps it was food poisoning that killed Sophia and Lily. How are we ever going to find out?’
Mark’s mind was racing. Were they still carrying a disease aboard Archangel? If they were, what was causing it? Was it the food or water aboard the yacht, or was Allison right in suggesting that there was an asymptomatic carrier of typhoid? If Allison was right, was there just one carrier, or several? If the disease was still contagious and the children succumbed, would they recover as the crew had, or would they die like the Aborigine women?
Blood Bond Page 15