‘Then began my own years of wandering, as I waited to become strong enough to defeat Huru Huru and his brothers. For many years I travelled through the islands working as a labourer or a ship hand. And then I knew it was time to return. I met the boy Oti, who was returning to the island after his time in Tonga. He told me of the tyranny of Huru Huru. He told me that he sold the island’s pearls to a wicked trader from the Philippines.
‘I sought this man on the Marquesas, and planned to return to the island on his ship. It was the day before we sailed that I also learned that the children of my father’s old friends were also trying to get to the island. I thought at first that this was a great coincidence, but now I know that it was fate. I took the place of your guide, that day. I did not tell you about my purpose because I knew that if the man Chung found out then he would not take me to the island.’
‘I thought it was all a bit of a coincidence,’ said Frazer.
‘All that happens, happens for a reason,’ replied Matahi. ‘But I did not know that you would be able to help me as you did. I owe you my life. And my village owes you its life as well, for surely Huru Huru was bleeding it to death.
‘Long ago my father and your fathers became brothers. Now I am your brother.’
And then Matahi gave them each a magnificent black pearl and he, Amazon, Frazer and Bluey all swore lifelong friendship.
It was three very full and very happy Trackers who went to bed back in their hut late that night, as the moon hung over the lagoon and sent lines of silver light flickering over the waters.
The rats were chasing him. Hundreds, thousands, millions. Their yellow teeth gnashed and snapped as he fled before them. They pursued him through the forest. His legs were moving so slowly, tangled up in vines and other things that clutched at him as he passed. The hands of the dead. Bony fingers. Ahead of him he saw the safety of the hut. Would he reach it in time, or would the rats catch him? He jumped, sailing through the air like a flying fish. He reached the doorway. He was inside. He turned. The rats were still coming, rushing towards him blindly. He smiled. He opened his mouth and the rats jumped in.
And now he was choking. He could not breathe. The rat was in his mouth. Panic surged like lava in his chest. He opened his eyes.
‘Frazer, be silent,’ hissed Matahi in the darkness. His hand was over Frazer’s mouth to prevent him from crying out. He saw Amazon and Bluey moving about in the dark of the hut.
Matahi slowly took his hand from Frazer’s mouth.
‘What is it?’ Frazer whispered.
‘Chung and his men have come. I was wrong. I did not see this. I do not know why they care so much. They have the pearls. I thought that they would go. They have guns and we must hide.’
Frazer looked over at Amazon and Bluey, who were desperately gathering supplies together.
‘But how …? It’s a small island. There’s nowhere to hide.’
‘There are places. Secret caverns under the ground dug by our ancestors. We may be able to hide for a time, and the foreigners will grow tired and leave. But we must go now.’
Seconds later, the Trackers followed Matahi out through the door. It was just before dawn, and the sky in the east was beginning to lighten, and stars still glittered in the lagoon. Outside they met Oti, who was standing guard. The two Polynesians spoke hurriedly together.
‘We must –’ began Matahi when suddenly the hut was lit up with bright torches, and a gunshot shattered the silence.
‘I suggest you don’t move unless you want a few more holes in your skin than nature intend.’
‘Chung!’ exclaimed Frazer and Amazon together, and then the man himself strode forward, accompanied by a dozen members of his crew. Chung had a heavy automatic pistol, and the others had a collection of handguns, rifles and sub-machine guns.
Without hesitating, Matahi leapt at one of the men and twisted the weapon from his hands, and clubbed him to the floor.
‘Come!’ he yelled, but it was already too late. Shots rang out, muzzle flashes showing orange in the darkness. Matahi had no choice but to turn and run, with Oti at his heels. Chung coughed out orders and three men set off after them.
Amazon was going to follow Matahi, but Bluey put his hand on her shoulder.
‘Let him go. He has a chance without us. And I don’t believe Chung will do us any harm. He has no quarrel with us. And I have to put your safety first.’
‘Very wise, Mr Blue,’ said Chung. ‘If you misbehave or try any heroics, then I have to shoot one of children. Maybe just in leg. Maybe in guts and you watch die slowly in front of you. Also, you very wrong about something. Chung has small quarrel with you. OK, maybe not quarrel, but a slight, ah, shall we say difference of opinion. You see, you want to make little baby turtle safe by helping them across sand and into sea. I think best to help baby turtle in different way. I think polite to take them away from this dangerous island and these seas, all full of shark, squid, barracuda and other hungry creatures that want to gobble them up. Chung think best to sell them to rich Americans who look after very nice, make turtle happy, make Chung happy.’
‘I knew it!’ exclaimed Amazon. ‘It’s the turtles. You were always after them.’
‘And the sat phone,’ Frazer chipped in. ‘You’ve been jamming it, haven’t you? That’s why I couldn’t get through to my dad …’
‘Oh, sure, my little boat has got all mod cons. And, yes, girl, that is Chung’s job. Pearls are just hobby. My main business is animal import-export. Baby turtle fetch a thousand dollar in US. On these beaches there are maybe ten thousand turtles. You do math. Don’t have to, Chung do it for you. Is million dollars. I take baby turtles to Mexico. Got good friend in coastguard there. And, by Chung’s calculation, today is day when turtle hatch out. And best of all is that you get to help! I got special storage boxes for turtles. Little English girl and little American boy, you please show Chung’s men where is turtle nests, then run around like crazy putting turtles nice and safe in box, then Chung say farewell and leave you here on island. No hard feelings, everyone friendly, eh, yes?’
‘We’ll never help you, Chung – why should we?’ said Frazer, his voice burning with hatred and contempt.
‘Hah! Good to see boy with grit. But foolish too. This is why China and east is easily take over world – Americans is too dumb. Where was I? Oh yes, unless you do this for Chung, your friend Bluey is in for a bad time with sharks, if you get Chung’s meaning. And, if you don’t, I mean we feed him to sharks, which to be honest is waste of perfectly good Australian. Also should say that your old friend Huru Huru is back. But he is not same jolly fellow he was before he got tickled with that pretty slug. Between you and Chung, he a bit loco-loco …’ Chung twiddled his finger at the side of his head in the universal sign for crazy.
‘I don’t like that guy. He too greedy, also deep down not nice. He likes to make other people unhappy. Not like Chung. I like everyone happy. But what I’m saying is maybe I can protect everyone from Huru Huru, if everyone helps Chung with little problem of how to collect all those baby turtle. You understand?’
Without waiting for an answer, Chung dropped his comical, almost friendly tone and barked out more orders, and three burly men came forward and grabbed Bluey. Frazer saw his Australian friend battle within himself, fighting his natural urge to get a punch or two in before they overpowered him. But, as he’d said, his prime responsibility was the two children, and so he allowed himself to be bound without a struggle.
‘Do as he tells you,’ he said as they led him away. ‘There’ll be another day when things pan out differently.’
What followed was a morning that was both miraculous and terrible.
Chung assigned Frazer to the village beach, while Amazon was sent to the turtle beach. Each had two minders who kept them covered with their guns. Each beach had three large boxes, designed to contain the newly hatched turtles, keeping them safe and secure.
Bluey was tied to a palm tree by the Trackers’ hut. A bored guard watched over him, smoking cigarette after cigarette, while yet more of the crew scoured the island looking for Matahi and Oti.
From his part of the beach, Frazer could see into the village, and there he beheld a very strange sight indeed. The villagers lurked in their huts, intimidated by the guns, and terrified by the return of the vengeful Huru Huru.
Huru Huru, however, as Chung had indicated, was not the man he had been two days before. The second-hand stings of the sea slug had left him bloated and his skin covered in ugly red blotches.
But that was not the main change. Some combination of the terrible pain caused by the sting and the powerful toxin it contained had affected his brain in a most peculiar manner. He commanded that his enormous wooden chair – a throne in all but name – be brought down from his house to the beach in front of the village. He sat dressed not in his usual garb, but draped in elaborately decorated fabrics that Frazer strongly suspected were curtains. He had also placed on his head a brightly coloured object made from china. It took Frazer a few moments to realize that this was a chamber pot – another pointless object hoarded by Huru Huru in his greed. The comically monarchical picture was completed by the sceptre which Huru Huru carried. Not the war club that the chief had once wielded, but a folded-up pink parasol with a pretty white fringe.
And Huru Huru was not quietly regal. He was crying out in a high-pitched voice.
‘I am your queen, Her Royal Highness Hura Hura. Come bow before me and offer your veneration, and I may save you from the coming maelstrom, from the catastrophe, from the end of the world.’
Huru Huru’s brothers stood on either side of the throne, looking decidedly uncomfortable. And, as Huru Huru or rather Queen Hura Hura’s diatribe continued, more of the villagers began to stare out of their huts, at first with fear, and then amazement, and then amusement, and finally hilarity.
But Frazer was not able to enjoy the spectacle of Huru Huru’s insanity for long. All along the beach he began to notice the sand start to stir.
It was already hot, even at 7 a.m. Weirdly hot. It wasn’t just that Amazon had got used to the glowering skies and rain squalls. This was a strange sort of heat that seemed to press down on her skull as if she were wearing a hat made of lead.
The heavy heat and the frantic exercise made her sweat, and the sweat mingled with the tears on her face. This was all a vicious parody of the entrancing day she and Frazer had helped the first clutch of turtles to make their way to the sea. Then there was only one nest to concentrate on. Now there were dozens, all along the beach.
She was racing across the sand, scooping up the tiny turtles – hardly bigger than bottle tops – and racing with them back to the boxes, where each had its own little compartment. She had already filled two of the boxes, which contained five hundred compartments each, arranged in ten layers of fifty compartments.
In fact, the turtles were digging their way out of the buried nests at such a rate that the two guards assigned to watch over her were helping out.
Even so, a few of the little turtles managed to waddle and flap their way down as far as the water. Sadly, even more of them were snatched up by the frigate birds that had flocked to the beach, or grabbed by the countless crabs that emerged from the lagoon.
Exhausted and heartbroken as she was, Amazon could not stop. The thought of what would happen to Bluey if she and Frazer did not fill up the boxes bit and nagged at her like an attacking frigate bird. And so she ran and wept and sweated, and, helped by the two guards, the three boxes were finally filled with the tiny, vulnerable and very expensive little turtles.
As she laboured, she had gradually become aware of something strange out on the horizon. She didn’t have the time to stop and look properly until the boxes were filled and the beach empty. Then she noticed that the two crew members were also staring out to sea, beyond the line of surf breaking on the reef.
Amazon shaded her eyes with her hand and followed their gaze. It looked like a solid bank of cloud so utterly black it appeared to be a slice of the night that had torn free and invaded the day. Here and there Amazon saw an intense yellow flicker.
Lightning?
‘What is that?’ she asked the crew, although she knew that they spoke no English. She tried in Mandarin, pointing at the black void in the distance.
They did not answer, but picked up a box each and hurried away, leaving one for Amazon. She toyed briefly with the idea of taking it straight to the water’s edge and releasing the little captives, but then she thought of Bluey handcuffed to the tree. She wiped her face with her sleeve, picked up the box and, staggering under the weight, followed.
The scene on the village beach was utterly chaotic. Chung’s men were dashing hither and thither, their leader barking orders and gesticulating wildly. The schooner, Tian-long, had come round to this side of the island and lay outside the reef, rolling in the heavy sea. The launch and another small boat – an inflatable – were pulled up on the beach. The crew were loading the boxes into the launch. Amazon guessed the other boat was to carry the crew back to the schooner.
But it wasn’t just the crew of the Tian-long who were frantically busy. The villagers were also furiously active. Many were carrying bundles of possessions – cooking pots, sleeping mats, bawling babies. One small boy carried a basket full of puppies. Other villagers were dragging pigs. They were all heading out of the village, towards the slightly higher ground, where Huru Huru’s house had been built.
It filled Amazon with unease. She tried to ask a woman who was passing what was going on. The woman pointed out to sea and said something, but then hurried away, taking her two small children with her.
Amazon looked out to sea again. The threatening line of darkness was closer now. She knew it was a storm. A big one. Then she noticed something very strange. Although big waves were hitting the reef and sending great plumes of white spray over into the lagoon, there did not seem to be any wind. Could you get waves without wind? The evidence was here right before her eyes, but it seemed to defy logic.
At least the crew were too busy to be bothered with her. She ran over to Frazer, who was squatting by Bluey, still handcuffed to the tree.
‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ said Frazer, shaking his head. ‘Total and utter failure. That psychotic crook is going to get away with almost every turtle on this island, and there’s not a darn thing we can do about it. I’d like to spit in his eye. And then spit in his other eye. And if he had more eyes I’d keep on spitting until … well, anyway …’
‘I know how you feel,’ said Bluey. ‘But I’m not sure that’s the worst of our troubles. Have you seen what’s coming?’
‘You mean the storm?’ said Amazon. ‘Yeah, looks really bad. And the villagers are all heading out.’
‘It’s way worse than bad,’ said Bluey. ‘We’re in serious, serious trouble.’
By now the launch was loaded with the turtle boxes, and most of the crew were in the inflatable. Leopold Chung marched quickly up to the group of Trackers.
‘OK, we all done here. Good doing business with you. All very satisfactory. I think best you go with people of village up to high ground. I think they are all try to get on roof of big house. You go too. This storm is going to be a beauty. I wish I could find place for you all on my ship, but –’ Chung shrugged. ‘Actually I don’t want to. Bye-bye.’
‘Chung, wait,’ said Bluey. ‘The keys, the keys for the cuffs.’
‘Oh, Mr Chung not idiot. You might do something foolish, and then I have to shoot you. I throw key from boat when we out in lagoon. You got plenty time.’
And then Chung ran down to the launch. Halfway there, suddenly, and with almost no warning, a gust of wind came and knocked him completely off his feet. At the same moment a sheet of spray from the reef whipped across the lagoon and smacked into all their faces.
The inflatable was already bouncing in the swell across the lagoon, and the sudden gust lifted it clean out of the water, and the Trackers heard a wail of fear from the crew, mingled with the buzzing of the outboard motor. Miraculously, the wind set them down again the right way up, and the boat zipped on towards the schooner and safety.
Back on the beach, Chung picked himself up, looked around to see who had noticed his indignity and scuttled to the launch. There was only room for two of the crew with him, so laden was it with the boxes. The three of them – Chung was obviously worried enough about the coming typhoon to lend a helping hand – pushed the launch into the lagoon and jumped in after it. It was dangerously overloaded, and Chung had to sit on top of one of the boxes.
Frazer ran down the beach towards the launch.
‘Mr Chung,’ he yelled, ‘the key! Don’t forget the key!’
Chung made a dumbshow of checking his pockets. Then he smiled and shrugged.
‘Ah, sorry, must have left on schooner. Very sorry. Easy fix – just chop down tree.’
Shark Adventure Page 13