by Ian Cook
In his dream, his mind desperately tried to stop the next sequence of events, but it was impossible.
For a fraction of a second, he hesitated, unsure whether to swerve out into the road and the oncoming traffic, or to swerve into the deep ditch running along the side of the road. In the event, he opted to wrench the wheel to the right, towards the ditch. But even then he could not avoid catching the side of the cow with the front wheel. The Land Rover reared, tipped over and skidded on its side into the ditch. He lay there for a while, dimly conscious of a wheel spinning slowly, until it came to a halt. All went quiet. Then he became aware of Moira lying beneath him. He could not see her head. A child’s moan broke the silence.
He woke from his sleep, shaking and sweating. This dream had tormented him at various intervals over twenty years, fading only gradually with the passing of time. But now it had returned, more vividly than ever.
Moira had died of her head injuries, three days after the accident. Kate had been killed outright, catapulted against the windscreen. Clea had been concussed, but had recovered quickly. He himself had survived, with just a few scratches.
It was only Clea who had kept him going over the intervening years. Larry’s sister had helped to bring her up, as he had never re-married, throwing himself instead into his daughter’s welfare and his own career.
Clea was now middle-aged, had her own family of a husband and two boys, and lived in Kings Lynn. He was always invited to stay over at Christmas, but he was too proud to risk imposing on them.
Yet in quiet moments, when he was alone, he dreaded the thought of retirement and the loneliness it would inevitably bring. Now, meeting Rebecca, he could not help thinking of his own lost daughter, Kate, and wondering how she would have grown up had she not been taken from him that day.
CHAPTER 30
At three o’clock in the morning, the yacht Mana was beating down from the north on a light breeze. It would make good time and reach port at daybreak about three hours later, at Hanga-roa on Easter Island.
The captain, Sean Brady, was on watch and sitting back admiring the night sky. His boat had been chartered in Barbados by Bill and Sue Gibson; they were newly retired and now keen for a new life of adventure, after years of daily grind. Their daughter lived in Australia, and so they had decided to visit her in style, by sailing across the Pacific. Sean had hired his crew of three in Barbados, and it included Dave, the tough and experienced Australian who had crewed with him on and off for five years.
The trip had gone exactly to plan. They had passed through the Panama Canal and sailed south to moor off the Galapagos Islands, joining a tour group to see the wildlife. From the Galapagos, they had sailed on without incident, planning to stay on Easter Island for a few days, before enjoying a leisurely island-hop en route to New Zealand and finally Australia. Now Bill, Sue and the crew were asleep below, after watching the dazzling Southern Lights display earlier in the evening.
The lights had begun to fade at around eleven o’clock, and Sean had been alone at the wheel for about four hours, content to have the occasional cigarette and admire the stars in the clear sky. The coast of Easter Island emerged from the darkness. With just the occasional light on the port side, it was reassuring after over a week without seeing land.
Then, out of nowhere, a huge dark cloud filled the southern horizon, blotting out the stars. It was worrying, as he was sure the night sky had been completely clear before he had nipped below to fetch a fresh pack of cigarettes. He was used to fast changes in the weather during his many years sailing the Pacific, but this one was somehow too sudden, even for these parts. He felt just a fleeting flash of fear, instinctively gripping the wheel hard as the cloud continued to grow, sweeping ominously towards the boat.
A many-forked flash of lightning was followed immediately by a crash of thunder that made the whole boat shudder. The crew began to appear on deck one after another, each one blinking sleepily and gazing around in disbelief.
“Reef the bloody sails. Now!” Sean screamed at them. “Jeez,” he muttered under his breath, increasingly alarmed at the swelling sea. He tried to regain his composure, as Bill and Sue stuck their heads up out of the hatch.
“Looks like a bad one coming up,” he yelled at them. “There was just no warning.” He noticed that they were still wearing dressing gowns. “Get dressed and get waterproofs and life jackets on.”
“What’s going on?” Bill called up.
“Sudden tropical storm. Now, please, just do as I say.”
They disappeared below. Within minutes, the crew were frantically whirling winches, until the sails flapped down to be quickly secured.
“Okay, full gear on, you lot. This could be nasty,” Sean bellowed above the wind. The crew groped their way to the steps one after another and fell below.
Now clad in orange waterproofs, Bill hauled himself on deck and looked around in amazement. Above him, torn clouds were rushing over the sky. He caught a glimpse of the moon just before the clouds closed up, engulfing the boat in darkness. A burst of spray hit him full on and his face blanched with fear. He blinked furiously and grasped the rail as a wave hit the side of the boat with a dull thud that sent a glass flying down the steps to smash at the bottom.
“Are we going to be all right?” he shouted at Sean.
“We’re only a few miles from port, but I can’t take her in – coast’s too rocky and visibility’s crap. I’m going to have to take her further out to sea for safety. We’ll just have to sit it out. Don’t worry. It’ll blow over soon.”
A gust of wind hit the boat like a kick from a giant. Sean steadied himself and reached to press a button on the Global Positioning System to take a reading. Nothing. He pressed the button again. Disturbingly, the screen stayed blank.
“Damn, damn,” he said to himself. “GPS’s down,” he bawled at Bill. “It’s okay, I’ll use the compass.” He closed his eyes and prayed to himself as he went to start the engine. There was an instant roar from below, and he sighed with relief.
There was a moment’s respite before a piercing shriek of wind sliced through the rigging, and the boat rolled violently to starboard. The sea broke over the deck and water poured down the steps into the cabins. Coming back upright, the boat steadied herself and the boiling sea spilled back over the sides.
Sean grabbed his chance; he darted quickly to the compass and managed to take a reading. Then he swung the wheel to face the boat due west and towards the open sea.
The only light came from the boat itself. Sean peered ahead into the deepening gloom and checked the compass again for reassurance. The storm was worsening, but he noted with grim relief that everyone was now wearing a life jacket.
“Take the wheel! Keep her due west!” he ordered Dave, and dived below to find his own waterproofs and life jacket.
Coming back up, he was met by a great howl of wind and the clamour and fury of the full storm. Taking the wheel from Dave, he expertly kept the boat turned so that she rode up with the waves, paused for an instant on the crests and plunged down into the troughs to rise up yet again.
The others were crouching in the cockpit, gripping the sides with white-knuckled hands. Bill put a comforting arm around his wife’s shoulder as she gasped with fear. The foam on the waves seethed with an unearthly white phosphorescence, as the wind whipped the spray horizontally and so forcefully that it cut their faces.
Nevertheless, Sean had been through many such storms and had total confidence in his boat. He never doubted that they could ride it out. Yet, when a massive crested roller came in like a wall from the port side, he had a flash of intuition that this was it. He was faced with something totally outside his control. Never before had he been struck by such a premonition – that this was where his luck finally ran out.
The towering wave hovered for an instant over the boat, like a cliff of shining, ebony black glass, and then came slowly crashing down. The Mana keeled over and was swept along on her side in the foaming sea. The whole boat g
roaned as it hit the rocks, and there was a shattering report as the keel broke away. Then the sea rushed in through the gaping hole in the hull.
CHAPTER 31
At precisely the same moment that the Mana was being smashed on to the rocks near Hanga-roa, Rebecca’s room lit up. She sat bolt upright in bed, as thunder rattled the window.
She hadn’t slept a wink, unable to rid her mind of images of young girls with grinning skulls and red-haired corpses that danced repeatedly in front of her closed eyes. Her brain would not stop going over all the details, again and again. Those things did not come out of my imagination. I know they were real, I saw them. But where did they come from? Why didn’t anyone else see them? Is there something wrong with me? Is there something weird about this place?
Wearily, she got out of bed, drew the curtains and looked out of the window. The wind was howling and rain was battering the windowpanes. She could hear rubbish bins rolling backwards and forwards in the street below. Another flash lit up the whole town for a moment, and she caught a glimpse of white crests on the waves in the bay. The ear-splitting thunder that followed seemed to shake the whole building. She yanked the curtains closed again and crawled back into bed, her eyes smarting with tiredness.
It was dawn before the storm subsided, and she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. At seven-thirty in the morning, she turned off her alarm, planning to doze for just another five minutes, only to awake shortly before nine. Late, flustered and badly in need of coffee, she rushed downstairs to the reception.
Pablo was talking to the receptionist, who seemed to turn away deliberately as Rebecca approached. Rebecca looked at her quizzically and then at Pablo.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said.
His response was totally unexpected. Instead of his usual warm smile, he looked at her coldly.
What the hell is up with you? she thought. She smiled at him enquiringly. “It was quite a storm last night. It kept me awake.”
“You’re lucky it only kept you awake,” said Pablo. “A boat was wrecked on the rocks near Hanga-roa last night. Five people drowned. They were battered to death on the rocks. Only the captain survived.”
Rebecca was stunned. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“They think two of the bodies they found were a British couple. The captain is still in a state of shock – he is still not fit enough to identify them.”
“If it is a British couple, I ought to check it out straight away. Can I talk to the captain?”
“I really don’t think he’s well enough.”
“But can we try?”
Pablo sighed heavily. Rebecca smiled weakly, but he merely gestured towards the hotel entrance and his waiting motorbike.
Putting aside her acute need for coffee, she followed Pablo and clambered on to the bike behind him. Without even checking that she was seated, he shoved the bike into gear and took off fast enough to skid the rear wheel, going straight through a large puddle.
It was not an easy ride, and she was relieved when they pulled up outside Hanga-roa hospital. Pablo talked to the man at the desk. “Follow me,” Pablo said. “He’s in a room off the main ward.”
Sean Brady was in a bad way. His head was heavily bandaged, and his face was cut and bruised. A nurse was putting a bandage on his wrist. Pablo spoke to her in what must have been Rapa Nui, the local language. The nurse nodded and left the room.
“Be quick. I promised we’d only be a couple of minutes,” said Pablo.
Rebecca leaned over Sean Brady. “I’m very sorry about last night,” she said quietly. “I’m Rebecca Burns – I’m a journalist from London. I just happen to be here doing a story. Is there anything I can do for you? Would you like me to contact anybody?”
He seemed not to hear her. There was a look of disbelief in his eyes, and he repeatedly shook his head slowly from side to side.
After a long hesitation, he whispered, “I thought we were going to make it. I was under full power. We should have been heading out to sea, but it turned out we were heading in the opposite direction. We were going straight for the rocks. At full speed! How could that be?”
He turned his head towards the window and looked at the grey sky for a while, before slowly turning back to face Rebecca. “The GPS was down, so I had to use the compass. I’ve never known a compass to play up before. And then that wave. In all my years at sea, I have never, ever seen anything like that wave.”
Rebecca put a hand on his shoulder. He stared into her eyes, his face distraught. “They said I’m the only one to survive. Everybody else drowned. Is that true? I was in charge – I was the one they depended on for their safety. I just don’t understand how it happened. Something bloody strange about that storm.” Then he turned his head away from her.
“I think it is time to go,” said Pablo.
Rebecca nodded, squeezed Sean Brady’s shoulder and followed Pablo out of the room. She knew she had a duty to follow up on the story.
“Is there anyone else we can talk to – the coastguard, or Señor Garcia, or anyone else? I must try to get the names of the couple,” she said, as they went down the corridor.
“Can we talk about it later?” said Pablo.
For Christ’s sake, what’s happened to Pablo? she thought. He was charming yesterday. It’s like he’s a different person today. What is it about this bloody creepy place?
“Why not now?” she asked.
“We said we would see Professor Burton this morning.”
“Well, okay,” she replied. “But listen, Pablo, I’m going to have to get some facts on this story – and I may need your help.”
She suddenly felt a desperate need for a friendly face and a bit of reassurance. At least I’m going to see Jim, she thought.
CHAPTER 32
Pablo’s change of mood made for an exceptionally uncomfortable and bumpy ride.
“Thank God,” Rebecca said under her breath when they finally reached the Orongo site and she saw the welcoming figure of Larry striding towards her, followed at a short distance by Jim.
“How are you?” Larry said, looking concerned as she eased herself painfully from the pillion. “What a storm! I thought we were going to get washed away.”
Rebecca felt a surge of relief. At least Larry is acting normally. Jim, on the other hand, simply stood there, staring at her rather coldly. No welcome there. Perhaps he’s had a bad night, too, she thought.
“A boat got wrecked last night,” she said. “Five people drowned, two of them Brits. We’ve just been to see the captain, he’s the only survivor.”
There was a shocked silence. Pablo took over and told the others what Sean Brady had said.
“At a guess, the wind and the currents were too strong for the engine,” Jim said. “It was one hell of a storm.”
“But even so,” said Larry, “it sounds as if the captain was confident that he was heading out to sea, so it’s a bit odd that they hit the rocks. He was using a compass, after all. And he was very experienced.”
Pablo cut in sharply. “We don’t know what happened. There’ll have to be an investigation.” He lowered his head and wandered off to look half-heartedly at some of the finds, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.
“I don’t know why, but for some reason, Pablo doesn’t seem very keen for me to get involved in this story,” Rebecca said quietly to the others.
But Larry was still looking puzzled. “There’s something that doesn’t quite hang together. Could the compass have gone wrong? If so, why?”
Nobody commented, and he offered Rebecca a coffee. Accepting it gratefully, she felt she should try to explain about the night before.
“By the way, I’m truly sorry about last night. I didn’t want to make a scene, but what I saw was very scary.”
“You were probably a bit over-tired, that’s all,” said Jim. “A bit hypersensitive. You’d had a long journey.”
Rebecca’s heart sank. “No, no, Jim, listen. You’ve got this wrong. I was perfectly all r
ight until I saw those horrible things. They were real you know, and I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before.”
No one answered. Larry and Jim looked awkward and embarrassed.
“Do you honestly mean neither of you saw any of it?” she said, looking from one to the other.
Larry threw a mild warning sideways glance at Jim. “What exactly did you see, Rebecca?” he asked.
To Rebecca, it was unbearable that they didn’t seem to believe her, but as she attempted to recall the events and relate exactly what happened, the full feeling of horror came flooding back, and she began to feel quite sick.
“It was just disgusting. You remember the old lady’s carving? It was just like that, but it was alive. It was real, I know it was real. I saw it, it was moving.” She looked at Jim, appealing for some sign of support and belief.
“And what did this living thing actually do?” he asked.
“It was walking towards me. And grinning in such a horrible, grotesque way. Then it disappeared.” She shuddered. “And after that, there was another one. A man with a headdress of red feathers.”
But even as she spoke, she began to realise how ridiculous she sounded.
Pablo looked up from studying a stone carving. “Maybe it was a Red Indian,” he called over.
“It was nothing at all like a Red Indian,” she said, irritated that Pablo was not even trying to take her seriously. “But then he didn’t look like a typical Easter Islander either.”
“Maybe it’s all connected with Señor Nata’s mother. Perhaps she really was doing something funny with that carving,” Jim said. “Pablo was saying last night that she communicates with the spirits. Well, you never know.” He grinned sardonically.
Rebecca tried not to get angry. “Okay,” she said, “can I talk to her?”
“She’s not here yet. Probably with her family,” Larry said. “She could be in the family cave along the coast.” He pointed along the coastal path. “They often stay there when they’re working on the site. It’s more convenient.”