“You actually think he’s going to help us find food?” Ashley sounded skeptical.
“If he can help get water, why not?”
“What are you going to do, just ask him?”
“We didn’t have to ask him about the water,” Bobby grabbed a vine and pulled it to his mouth like he was eating it. “Wow, I’m hungry. Wish I had something better to eat.”
Ashley rolled her eyes and shook her head. She pulled part of the vine to her mouth. “This stuff sucks,” she said. “I wish I had some cheeseburgers.”
The tree kangaroo stared at them, distracted from the swarming termites.
Bobby moved closer to Mbaiso and pulled another vine to his mouth. “I sure wish I could find—”
He stopped and sputtered. “Ow! Crap it hurts!” His mouth was on fire, like hot needles were sticking his lips. He pushed his hand against his mouth and the pain exploded, hurting so much he fell to his knees.
“What, Bobby? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know—Oooogod.” It hurt to talk, so he pointed at the vine and then his mouth.
Ashley inspected the vine. “It’s covered with little hairs. They must be poisonous.”
“Ahhnng gignnnk knoooh.”
“Let me see.” She knelt in front of him. “Look at me.”
Bobby looked into her eyes, only inches away. He could see his reflection against the green of her irises.
“Hold still. Move your hand!”
She was right in his face, the closest he’d ever been to a girl like Ashley. Even after a plane crash and two days of sweating, she smelled good.
“The hairs are stuck on your mouth, Bobby. Hold still.”
She bit her lower lip as she concentrated. He felt a pinprick.
“Got it. See?” She held it up, too close to focus on. “There’s a bunch of ‘em, so sit tight.”
A few minutes later she held up the last hair like a trophy. Bobby almost wished there were more. His lips were a little numb, but they felt better.
Ashley settled back onto the ground. “You may be the man-with-a-plan, but maybe you shouldn’t put random things in your mouth, especially in the middle of nowhere.”
Bobby sat across from her and crossed his legs. He picked at his socks. The morning before, the socks had been white. Now they were brown and red with mud, dried blood, and clinging seeds. Ashley’s socks, he noticed, were much cleaner.
From the direction of the plane, they heard Carlos’s voice, “No, that hurts!” Then came some calming words from Mr. Darnell that they couldn’t make out.
“I hope the doctors can save his hand,” Ashley said.
Bobby had seen Carlos’s hand. Saving it seemed unlikely. “Me too.”
“What do you think is going to happen to us?”
She seemed to want to talk, but Bobby had no answer.
“Do you think they’re looking for us?”
“I don’t know, but I think maybe we’re being watched.”
Ashley frowned. “By who?”
“Whoever trained Mbaiso. Whoever did that to those parts of the plane.”
Ashley looked around them. There was nothing to see but trees, vines, and mud. “If someone is watching, why don’t they help us?”
“I don’t know, but I figure they aren’t cannibals. They would’ve come for us by now.”
Her brows wrinkled. He shouldn’t have mentioned cannibals. He thought hard for something better to say. “Mr. Darnell’s parents found a tribe here that had never seen white people before. They made friends with them by trading things, like knives and radios. The Papuans gave them necklaces and food and stuff. Maybe Mbaiso’s a present for us.”
“Yeah, well that didn’t turn out so well for anyone. Mr. D’s dad killed himself.”
Bobby stared at her. Mr. Darnell hadn’t told him that.
Ashley looked around them again and then sighed. “Damn you, Lori, you bitch! I didn’t even want to come on this stupid trip.”
“Who’s Lori?”
“My mother.”
“You call your mom Lori?”
Ashley ignored the question. She started picking at debris in her hair. She reached back and swept her long frizzy hair over her head so it hung in front of her face. “God, look at all this crap.” She picked at it like she was angry.
“You didn’t want to come?” he asked her.
She kept picking at her hair. “Lori talked me into it. Said it would do me good to see how poor some people are. So I would know how lucky I am.”
Bobby watched her fingers work. He wanted to reach out and remove the pieces she missed but didn’t dare. “You are lucky, I think. We both are. We didn’t die.”
Her fingers stopped.
He went on. “My mom and dad didn’t have the money so I earned most of it myself. Took more than a year. I couldn’t wait to get here, with the jungle and animals and all.”
She looked at him through her tangled hair. “You really are a science boy, aren’t you? Mr. Darnell, Junior.”
“At least I know what I like, and at least I like something.”
Ashley flipped her hair back and looked at him. “That’s cool, science boy. I know what I like, too. Most people don’t know about it, though.”
“What’s that?”
“Horses.” She eyed him like she was daring him to laugh. “We have four. I like riding them and working with them.”
“I didn’t know you had horses.”
“I don’t tell people. So don’t go talking or I’ll beat you stupid.”
“I won’t.”
“I’m going to have horses when I get my own place. That’s one thing Lori and Brent have taught me—if you have money, you get what you want.”
“I’ve never been on a horse, but I think it’d be fun.”
“Tell you what, then. If you figure out how to get us out of here, I’ll teach you to ride.”
Bobby heard something approaching in the trees. He looked up and saw the brown-and-gold body of their marsupial friend. He hadn’t even realized Mbaiso had left them.
“Shit! What is that?” Ashley jumped up and pointed over Bobby’s shoulder.
Bobby turned and suddenly he was nose-to-nose with a strange face. He yelped and backed away. The new creature stood on its hind legs, with smaller forelimbs hanging in front of its chest, like a scrawnier version of the tree kangaroo. It was larger than Mbaiso, but its head was long and thin, and small for the size of its body. Its fur was solid tan except for a white stripe running down the back from head to rump. It raised and lowered its needle-like head. Mbaiso sat quietly above them, watching.
“It’s food,” Bobby whispered. “I told you he’d bring us food.”
“The infections are worse, and we’re out of clean water.” Lindsey turned an already soiled cloth over and wiped futilely at the wounds on Miranda’s leg. She then swatted at the swarm of flies trying to feed on the stale flesh. Miranda stared vacantly.
“It’ll rain again,” Quentin said. He was trying to build an insect barrier on the front of the fuselage using natty fabric removed from the seat cushions. He reasoned that if he could create a decent shelter for the others, perhaps he could leave them here and go search for help. If it came to that.
Quentin glanced at the fire. “Hey, Carlos, it’s dying down again, pal. Put the rest of that pile on and gather some more.” The pile of fuel consisted of anything dry enough to burn, mostly sago leaves. Getting the fire started had taken forever—even with the lighter he’d found on the pilot’s body—and he didn’t want it going out. A search plane might see the smoke from above. Carlos sat near the fire, his back against a tree. Quentin approached him. “Carlos, you hear me?”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
The boy seemed oblivious to the insects on his face and arms. He was becoming more withdrawn. Quentin crouched down beside him. “Come on, pal. On your feet. You’ve got to keep moving.” He pulled the boy up, alarmed at how light he was.
“Mr. Darnell, ch
eck this out!” Bobby and Ashley approached from the brush. Bobby carried something in his arms. It looked like a wallaby, but with a very narrow head. “Mbaiso brought it to us. It’s supposed to be food.”
“That’s his opinion,” Ashley said. “It just wandered right up to us.”
Bobby set it on the ground, where it simply sat on its haunches.
“It looks like a dorcopsis,” Quentin said, noting the white stripe on its back. “It’s a kind of wallaby. It doesn’t seem very afraid.” Quentin nudged the wallaby with his foot, thinking it might be sick. Like a dog settling in for a nap, the animal plopped on its side at their feet. With its remarkably narrow head, it struck Quentin as a very stupid looking animal.
“I was starting to think we’d have to eat Mbaiso,” Bobby said. “Now we don’t have to!”
As the forest began to grow dark, Quentin told the others to move into the plane. There was no need for the fire, as the smoke wouldn’t be visible, so Quentin dragged a wrecked piece of metal and glass over the pile of dry fuel in case it rained during the night.
The dorcopsis lay on the ground near the fire, chewing on something. It would be foolish to let it wander off. Bobby was right, butchering the wallaby would go over better than killing the tree kangaroo. At least they hadn’t named the wallaby yet. He extracted a length of electrical wire from the wreckage and fastened one end of it around the animal’s neck. The dorcopsis shook its head a few times but otherwise seemed oblivious. Quentin scooped it up and placed it next to a tree that was entangled with a thick woody vine at the base. He fastened the other end of the wire to the vine. The wallaby tugged at the wire and then sprawled on the ground.
As Quentin turned away, he detected movement in the forest, beyond where the three bodies lay. He stared, and then nearly stumbled backwards with surprise as his brain processed the dim image. It was an upright figure moving slowly through the trees.
“Hey,” he shouted. “Is someone there?”
“Quentin?” Lindsey called from inside the fuselage. “We’re all in here.”
The truth of this hit him, and suddenly he felt exposed. The figure stopped moving and the forest was too murky to make it out. Quentin walked toward it, reminding himself that no large land predators lived in New Guinea. Suddenly the spot exploded. Quentin pulled back, startled. He could barely make out the movement, but he was almost sure it was a human. Then the rustling of the fleeing figure melded with the sounds of the night and was gone.
Chapter Seven
Their second night in the rainforest was as fitful for Quentin as the first. The others seemed to sleep fairly well, although Miranda mumbled most of the night. Quentin woke repeatedly, imagining or dreaming that someone was standing at the open end of the fuselage watching him. Finally it began raining, and he drifted into a more restful sleep as the torrent drowned out the other sounds that had kept him alert.
When he awoke, the rain had stopped and the forest glowed with the filtered light of early morning. Every muscle in his body was sore, and he doubted his ability to even sit up. But he willed himself to a vertical position, stifling a groan. The others were quiet, including Miranda. He stared at her for a moment, making sure she was breathing, and then did the same with Addison. With every passing hour, the chances the two would survive grew slimmer.
Once out of the plane, Quentin struggled to rise to his full height. He raised his shirt. His abdomen was one massive black and gray bruise. He looked around, checking the forest for any signs that someone else had been there. He pulled away the wreckage he’d placed over the pile of fuel. Some of it was reasonably dry, so he fished the lighter from his pocket. Before long the fire was burning again, but he would need to find more fuel to create enough smoke to be seen from above.
Quentin didn’t have to relieve himself, which meant he was dehydrated. He was also hungry to the point of feeling weak. The dorcopsis was still there, very wet but waiting patiently. They would have to kill and eat it.
But first he needed to bury the three bodies, as they were becoming a health risk to all of them. The light of morning had vanquished his anxiety over the mysterious figure from last night, but as he approached the bodies his courage and composure abruptly melted. In place of the bodies were three mounds of reddish-brown soil, nearly washed into the ground by the rain.
Bobby awoke to the smell of cooking meat. His mouth watered before he even opened his eyes, but he was disappointed that he had missed out on the killing and dressing of the wallaby. He sat up and rubbed his bruises. Mrs. Darnell was at the front of the plane, huddled over Addison. Her shoulders shook.
“Mrs. Darnell?” She didn’t answer, but her shoulders stopped. “You okay?” Still no answer. This made Bobby uncomfortable, so he left the plane.
Carlos was up and sitting by the fire. Next to him was a pile of sticks and brown palm leaves. A piece of metal from the plane had been dragged over the fire and some chunks of meat hung on the edge of it, cooking in the heat.
Bobby eased his sore butt onto the ground next to Carlos. “Damn, everything hurts. How you feeling?”
There was no answer. Bobby looked at his friend’s face, and the air around him seemed to turn cold. Carlos’s face had changed. His skin was pale. His eyes seemed to be lighter, almost gray, with red around them. The eyes glanced at Bobby, and then stared into the fire.
Bobby fought the urge to say something about Carlos’s appearance. “Where’s Mr. Darnell?”
Carlos shrugged slightly.
Bobby nodded at the cooking meat. “That the wallaby?”
Carlos nodded.
“You try it yet?”
Carlos shook his head.
Again, Bobby felt uncomfortable. He gazed awkwardly at the trees.
Mr. Darnell approached them, carrying the raincoat and two plastic bottles filled with clear rainwater. And he was soaking wet.
“Morning, Bobby.” Mr. Darnell put the bottles on the ground and then checked the wallaby meat by poking it with his pocketknife.
“Morning. You should talk to Mrs. Darnell. She seems kind of upset.”
“Yeah. Maybe we need to give her a little time.” He nodded toward Carlos, who was still staring into the fire. “Things aren’t going so well, are they?”
Bobby wasn’t sure if he was supposed to answer this. “I guess not.”
“I tell you what. That tree kangaroo of yours is amazing. I just held out the jacket and he knew what to do. Never seen anything like it. We’ll have to write it up for National Geographic or something, eh?” Mbaiso had followed him back and Mr. Darnell looked up at him. “What do you think of that, fella? You want to be famous?”
Bobby knew Mr. Darnell was trying to make him feel better, and it was working. So he decided to go with him to collect more water. With Mbaiso’s help, they filled the zip-lock bags. As they worked, they praised the tree kangaroo endlessly.
“Mbaiso, you are a noble marsupial,” Mr. Darnell said, after a drenching downpour.
“You’re the king of all marsupials,” Bobby said. “You’re so smart the pythons won’t eat you because they can’t swallow your brain.”
This went on. The stupid diversion almost made Bobby forget his hunger.
Later, they gathered around the fire to share the wallaby meat. Mr. Darnell tasted the meat first. He said it might make them sick if it wasn’t cooked enough. It was charred black, so there was little chance of that. Although dry, the meat was tasty, and for some time the only sounds heard were ripping and chewing and the crackling fire. This made Bobby feel like they now belonged here. They were eating a jungle animal, just like the Papuans did. Even Carlos ate some of the meat as Mr. Darnell handed him bite-sized pieces.
Bobby said, “Should we save some food for Miranda and Addison?”
The Darnells looked at each other in a way that made Bobby wish he hadn’t asked. But Mr. Darnell nodded and said, “Yes, we should do that.”
“Why haven’t we heard any search planes?” Ashley asked.
> Mr. Darnell sighed. “I don’t know. As of last night, they had to know at home that we weren’t on the flight to Kansas City. Even if there was confusion at the Sentani airport and they lost track of our plane, they have to know now because your folks are making phone calls.”
“Raising hell is what they’re doing,” Ashley said.
The talking died again, and Bobby thought about this. No matter how mixed up things were at the airport, their parents would do something about it. He thought of his mom and dad. They would have to talk to each other because of this.
He also thought of Carlos’s parents. They didn’t know yet that Roberto was dead, or that Carlos might be dying. Their family had been close. Carlos’s mom stayed home and didn’t work; being a mother was what she did. Bobby pictured her sitting on Roberto’s bed, looking at his stuff and crying. Bobby didn’t know Russ’s family, but he felt bad for them, too. And for the families of the pilot and the Indonesian couple.
Maybe Bobby was the luckiest of all of them. He wasn’t badly hurt and he hadn’t lost a family member. Ashley was lucky, too. Bobby looked across the fire at her, the image of her face fluttering in the heat waves. Other than a cut on her shoulder, she was okay.
Ashley bit some meat from what may have been a leg bone, and then noticed Bobby staring. Her eyes narrowed. She held up the bone. “I feel like we’re eating someone’s pet.”
When most of the meat was gone, Mr. Darnell cleared his throat. He told them that the bodies were missing, turned into dirt. Everyone got quiet. Bobby felt a chill pass through him.
Mr. Darnell said, “I think we should have a ceremony for Roberto and Russ.” He looked at Carlos. “So we can say goodbye.”
Carlos just stared vacantly into the fire.
Diffusion Box Set Page 7