Savage Island

by Bryony Pearce

  The buoyancy of the bedroll may have stopped me sinking but the water was still rising.

  “This is going to take too long.” My lips were numb as I formed the words, my teeth chattering.

  “Who else has a shovel?” Will asked.

  “We only agreed to bring one,” Lizzie said. “But we can use other stuff – bowls, pans…” She started to wade back to shore. “Carmen, have you got your mess tin?”

  Another roll of thunder clattered across the sky and gulls took off from the cliff edge with eerie cries.

  Carmen pulled out a bowl and tossed it to Lizzie, then she secured her pack and climbed into the water with her mess tin in one hand.

  They waded out towards me, holding on to one another as the current yanked at them. Carmen’s long hair pulled out to one side, an oil spill in the water, pink ends like the tendrils of an exotic jellyfish.

  When they reached the edge of the quicksand, they both took deep breaths and went underwater. They wrapped their arms around my thighs as they worked. I felt like a drowning sailor with sirens below.

  Grady was searching in his backpack. “I knew we’d need an extra spade,” he yelled. “It’s here somewhere.”

  I choked as water splashed into my nose. My left leg was almost free but that meant it was even harder to resist the current pulling at me.

  “Got it.” Grady started to swim.

  “Grady, no!” I shouted. Too late, Grady was dragged into the rocks by the force of the current. “You have to wade…”

  Grady came up spluttering, gripping the spade with one hand and his elbow with the other.

  Lizzie and Carmen appeared and gasped for air, cold hands clutching my chest and shoulders. Then they went under again and Will followed.

  There was frantic activity beneath me but all I could do was float and spit seawater.

  Slowly my right leg began to lift and then, abruptly, I was free.

  I had a single second of sheer relief before I realized that I had been anchoring all of us against the current.

  I tried to shove Lizzie back towards the rocks, but the current fought me. I still had Will’s bedroll in one hand and I managed to catch Carmen as she was pulled past. I pushed the bedroll into her hands and held on to the string so that she bobbed with me like a kite.

  Will was swimming hard, his jaw clenched, going nowhere.

  “Grady!” I cried.

  Grady clambered back on to the rocks, turned and fumbled to undo his belt. He tugged it from around his waist but it wasn’t until he whipped out his penknife and cut the ends that I realized what he was doing. Parachute cord spooled out as fast as he could pull it.

  “Nice one!” I choked on a surge of surf.

  Grady threw the line towards Will, who swam frantically, made it a little way against the current, and managed to catch the floating end. He gripped Lizzie with one hand and I snagged his right foot. Will wrapped the line around his elbow and we hung on while Grady pulled us back in.

  Lizzie, Carmen and I kicked, trying to help. The water rose higher, waking crabs in the rock pools and Grady pulled. The cord cut through Will’s shirt and into his skin, his blood muddying the water.

  My leg slammed into a hidden rock and I cried out, but released Will and scrambled for a handhold. Will’s fingers found a fissure and we floated for a moment, free of the current. Carmen scrambled over me, into a rock pool, then reached down to help Lizzie.

  “Are you OK?” Grady called.

  I nodded, then looked up. “Our rucksacks!” The rocks beneath them were submerged, water lapping at the packs. We hauled ourselves up and staggered to our kits.

  I grabbed my bag and hauled it further up, out of the water’s reach, then collapsed against the cliff wall. I looked at Will, who was slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Quicksand!”

  Will nodded.

  Lizzie crumpled next to me. She pushed her glasses on to her nose.

  “We could’ve died!” Carmen grabbed Grady and placed a huge wet kiss on his cheek. “You saved us, Grady.” Then she wrapped her arm around Will. “And you, Will.”

  “This wasn’t a good start,” Grady said seriously.

  I snorted a laugh and suddenly we were all giggling.

  We stopped when we realized that the tide was still rising – and fast.

  “I’m not walking across those rocks,” Carmen said. “They are like teeth.”

  “There’s a way up the cliff.” Lizzie pointed. “If you’re up to it, Ben?”

  I nodded. “It’ll save us some time once we’re at the top.”

  Before we set off, I looked back. Through the wind and rain, I could just about make out the smudge of the phone box on the other side of the crossing and, making patterns in the surf, Grady’s paracord belt, tangled in the rocks. With numb fingers I set an alarm on Grandad’s watch. The second time it went off, the crossing would be safe again for our journey home.

  Chapter Three

  No one argued about the climb but Grady held his injured elbow close to his chest. The rain hammered on his lowered hood.

  “Best to go now, Grady, before your arm stiffens up any more,” Carmen said sympathetically.

  “I know.” He swallowed. “We can’t wait anyway, the tide…” He glanced at Will and then at me.

  “Don’t blame Will,” Carmen warned.

  “He should’ve noticed his watch wasn’t working.” Grady didn’t meet her eyes. “And Ben was the one who suggested the ‘shortcut’.”

  “I’m sorry, guys.” I clipped the straps of my rucksack closed over my chest, relieved that my blisters weren’t rubbing underneath.

  “Ben carried your rucksack for you, Grady,” Lizzie reminded him in a quiet voice. “If he hadn’t, you might still be back there.” She pointed and we all stared. It seemed that the waves had always been behind us – impossible that we had walked here. Grady clamped his lips together.

  I looked towards the top of the cliff. “Are we free climbing?”

  Lizzie nodded. “It’s only four metres or so and it looks like there are plenty of handholds.” She was already pulling on light gloves. “Remember not to grip too hard – it’ll wear out your forearms.

  I raised my eyebrows. “What else?”

  “Keep your body close to the cliff and your knees pointing away from it.” She rubbed her eyes and replaced her glasses. “Move your arms or legs and then shift your body weight. Don’t do both at the same time. Follow me up, try to use the same hand-and footholds.” She glanced up, assessing the route. “If you do fall…” She tailed off.

  “If we fall?” I prompted her.

  “Push away from the wall as hard as you can. That way you might not crash into the person below you and there’s a chance you’ll hit water, not rock. Try to keep your feet pointed downwards.”

  “That’s it?” Grady cried. “Try to keep your feet down?”

  “You don’t want to break your back, do you?”

  Lizzie was already seeking the first handhold. I tucked my own hands under my armpits to warm them up a bit. Will was flexing his, getting the joints moving. The left arm of his shirt was bloodstained.

  “Will you be OK, Will?” The question was automatic.

  Will raised his eyebrows. “The tendons aren’t torn. I can use the arm.” And for him that was that.

  Lizzie hoisted herself on to the rock.

  “I’ll go last,” I said. “I really hurt my leg on a rock. I’m not sure how much of my weight it’ll take.”

  Lizzie looked down, worried.

  “Either I make the climb or I stay here.” I said, spreading my hands. Eventually Lizzie pulled herself upwards.

  Grady was ahead of me, then Will. Carmen was right behind Lizzie, imitating every move she made. Will was watching her closely. Looking at him now, I could almost forget what he’d been like when he was little. Almost.

  I would have been four the first time I noticed something wasn’t right. I don’t remember why I had the day off school, but fo
r some reason I was with Mum and Will at a Mum’s and Tots group. I was playing alone in a corner, pushing a truck up and down, when I realized that the background chatter had quietened. Tension filled the air – I could feel it right up my neck. Suddenly my T-shirt wasn’t warm enough. Mum’s voice, as she talked about the new slide in the park, had turned brittle.

  Curious, I turned. The parents were all watching Will, their conversations fading.

  He was peering intently at another little boy, who had a blue lorry clutched to his chest. Will liked the colour blue. I jumped to my feet. “Give the lorry to Will!” I yelled. So, yeah, I guess I had known before then.

  The boy shook his head and Will clenched his fists. His face grew redder and redder, then he started to shake. Instantly the mothers were on their feet, grabbing their children and lifting them on to their knees. They knew.

  The mum of the boy with the blue lorry was slow to react.

  “Kate!” someone called, but she only made it halfway to her son before Will erupted. I watched, frozen, as my brother punched, bit and kicked until he was dragged away, screaming.

  Later, when it had all calmed down and Mum had a cup of tea in her hand, Will walked up to the other little boy. He offered the blue lorry back to him. The other boy shook his head. Will insisted. Finally, when the boy reached for the toy, Will looked around, made sure Mum had her eyes on the biscuit plate, then stamped on his foot.

  My boots were wrong for rock climbing. They were army boots from the surplus store, with huge steel toe caps. I could walk in them for days, and you could drop a tank on my foot, but I couldn’t feel with my toes and all the grip was underneath. I should’ve changed into my trainers.

  Four metres hadn’t seemed that far, but, balancing halfway up in the rain, the water seemed very far below me. I stopped, rested my weight on my right leg and pressed my forehead on to the rock face.

  “Ben?” Lizzie shouted. “You OK? I’m at the top.”

  “Just taking a breather.” I tried to relax my forearms; I was gripping too tight, my muscles threatening to spasm. I tilted my head back, careful not to lean too far. Lizzie had one arm over the edge of the cliff, holding out a hand for Carmen. Will and Grady weren’t far behind them. Breathing deeply, I pulled myself up to the next hold.

  The moment Will tugged me on to flat ground, I flopped on my back like a turtle on its shell, my rucksack beneath me. The rain was finally lightening and the cloud was breaking up.

  With a groan, I sat up and looked at Aikenhead.

  Shafts of sunlight-bruised moorland stretched out for ever; wet heather and coarse grasses in a patchwork of purple, green and brown. To our right, trees crowded together, deformed by the wind. Crumbling drystone walls drew lines that meant nothing to wandering sheep.

  Birds screamed and I looked up in time to see a great skua chasing a gull, scolding it until it dropped whatever it had been carrying in its mouth. The skua landed, cried at us, then snatched up the food and launched again, the white dashes on its wings flashing.

  Lizzie laughed. “Bully!”

  “Can you guys walk?” Carmen asked. “I hate to rush you, chico, but if we miss the introduction, we’ll have lost before we’ve even started.”

  “Carmen’s right.” Lizzie climbed to her feet. “We have to catch up.”

  I pulled my medical kit and water bottle from my rucksack. “Just let me take some paracetamol and I’ll be OK.” I offered the pills to Will and Grady.

  Will took two, but Grady shook his head and reached for his rucksack. “I’ve got my own.”

  Grady’s medical kit was three times the size of mine. Lizzie stared. “What have you got in there? Are you planning on opening a chemist?”

  I stared at painkillers, anti-inflammatories, plasters, bandages, different kinds of antiseptic, arnica, butterfly stitches, sting relief, sterilising tablets, even allergy tablets organized in colour-coded pockets.

  Will pointed. “Those are antibiotics.”

  Grady nodded. “Dad prescribed them on a ‘just in case’ basis. Did you know that there’s a cure for cancer, but big pharma has it locked down so they can make more money?” He said it almost absently, a reflex of speech as he selected a packet of high-strength painkillers and took some. He winced as he flexed his elbow, then folded the kit back up and stuffed it inside his pack, but instead of closing up his bag, he dug around some more. His face fell.

  “Everything’s wet.” He pulled out an iPad.

  Lizzie raised her eyebrows. “An iPad?”

  “Will it turn on?” Carmen touched his shoulder.

  Grady sighed. “Of course not.”

  Lizzie frowned. “Has anyone got a working phone?”

  Carmen shook her head sadly.

  “I hadn’t even thought about that!” I said. Mine had been in my pocket the whole time. I pulled it out and tried the power button, even though I knew it would be useless. “Will, what if the Gold Foundation call Mum when they realize we didn’t arrive on the crossing? She’ll be worried sick.” I shoved it back in my pocket.

  “You think they would?” He frowned, then turned to Grady. “Weren’t you bringing a satphone?”

  Grady unclipped a side pocket and pulled it out. “The Iridium Extreme.” He held it up. “Shockproof, dustproof and … waterproof!” He turned it on with a flourish.

  “Call your dad,” I said. “Tell him we’re OK.”

  Grady was frowning at the phone. “This can’t be right.” He shook it, then switched it off and on again. “This thing’s meant to work at the North Pole.”

  “What’s the matter?” Carmen asked.

  “It’s got one hundred per cent global coverage!” Grady was yelling at the phone now. “It’s impossible. Iridium satellites are low-earth orbit. There’s literally no way I could have no reception.”

  “No GPS?” Lizzie asked.

  Grady growled. “Nothing, I’ve got nothing. There’s something weird going on here.”

  Carmen’s face fell. “We can’t let anyone know we’re OK?”

  Lizzie shook her head and strode towards the cliff path. “We’d better find the starting point, before they start making calls.”

  No one bothered unfolding a map; we knew the crossing should have taken us straight to the gridpoint. We just had to head round the cliff and we’d find our way.

  “Hey, you guys, is that another team?” Carmen pointed at five big lads, all dressed in camo gear, heading in our direction. One of them, marching at the head of the group, stood out – his hair redder than mine. We’d pass above them. Carmen shouted and waved. They looked up, then put their heads down and started to jog.

  “Well, same to you!” Carmen yelled.

  “It’s a competition, Car.” Will grinned. “I guess they don’t want to cosy up to the enemy.”

  “Waving is not cosying up, it’s being polite.” She grimaced. “I hope they fall off the cliff.”

  “Where d’you think they were going?” Lizzie frowned. “Do you reckon that’s the way to the first checkpoint?”

  “Should we follow them?” Grady turned to look at their vanishing backs. “They look like they know what they’re doing.”

  “No,” Lizzie said after a second. “There might be something we need at the official starting point. We can catch up later.”

  “Yeah, they looked slow,” Grady grumbled sarcastically.

  I fell into step with Lizzie, Carmen dropped back to walk with Will, and Grady thudded along in the middle, grunting with the weight of his rucksack.

  Lizzie looked up at me. “Is this going to be more dangerous than we realized? I mean, no one came to help us back there. You could have died.”

  Will turned. “For five million pounds, it isn’t going to be an easy ride,” he said.

  “I know, but … I expected some supervision.”

  “We don’t need supervision, chica.” Carmen grinned. “Adults would just cramp our style.”

  “We haven’t got to the official starting point yet,
” I reminded her. “They’re probably waiting for us there.”

  Above us, the sun burned the last of the clouds away, allowing some August warmth to reach us. A smile played on my lips – maybe our clothes would dry out after all.

  “Look!” Grady cried. In the distance a whale blew a fountain of foam. Carmen squealed. Even Will stopped to look as the whale’s calf carved an arc from the water and landed with a crash of surf. Carmen fumbled for her digital camera. She aimed it at the glinting sea, then stopped and looked at it miserably. “This got wet too. I should have put it in a plastic bag.”

  “Look, puffins!” Lizzie cried.

  “They’re so cute!” Carmen was already smiling again. “OK, compañeros.” Carmen clapped her hands. “We got off to a bad start, but it’s fun all the way from now on and a million pounds for each of us!”

  “Do you think we can still win?” Grady raised his eyebrows. “None of the other teams managed to get stuck in the sand.”

  “Of course we can!” Lizzie said firmly. “That was our one mistake. We got it out of the way. From now on, we’ll be a well-oiled machine.”

  “OK then. I can’t wait for the first puzzle.” Grady pulled a packet of strawberry laces from a pocket and offered it around.

  “I was looking forward to climbing, but we already did that.” Lizzie laughed as she chewed.

  “Will, what are you looking forward to?” Carmen nudged him.

  Will shrugged. “The challenge of beating the other teams?” He looked at me.

  “Yeah, the whole game.” I faked a heel-flip, as if I had my skateboard with me. “This is going to be the best three days of our lives.”

  Chapter Four

  We kept walking. Will put his shades on and Lizzie rammed a baseball cap over her hair. I knew it was because she hated her freckles. I thought they were cute, even though I’d never tell her so.

  I bent down and picked a pale yellow flower. Without thinking, I tucked it behind the arm of Lizzie’s glasses.