by Steph Matuku
One of the journalists called out a question, and Griff answered him clearly and politely. He did the same with the next question, and the next.
With each calm response, the mood in the room eased. The crowd was still anxious, but there was hope there as well. Hope that Griff and Seddon would bring their children home.
24
‘I’ve always wanted to go skinny dipping with two hot chicks,’ Rocky said, as they stood shivering on the beach.
The girls ignored him. The situation was too scary, too real, to be laughed away with a weak joke. Besides, they were all wearing underwear.
The three of them – Rocky in the middle, Devin and Eva on either side – were tightly gripping the bundle of long sticks Devin had tied together to act as a flotation device. As well as the fishing spear, it included a Y-shaped stick that Devin thought might be a good crutch for Rocky. Mandy’s waterproof backpack was tied securely to the middle, their clothes stowed carefully inside. It almost looked like a raft – a raft for dolls – but there was no way it would hold their weight.
They dithered for a bit, watching the seething waters rush by, and Eva was on the verge of chickening out altogether when Devin quickly blurted, ‘On three. One, two, three!’ And then they were wading in and it was too late for Eva to change her mind.
The ground dropped away and they clung to the makeshift flutterboard, focusing on kicking, the rain driving water back up into their faces, half-blinding them. They’d known they would be dragged downstream, but they hadn’t counted on how far or how fast. The bank seemed miles away and the water was extremely cold. More than that, it was deep, and the current so strong it made them appreciate as never before that no matter how far humans have evolved – what with their computers and instant noodles and fake eyelash extensions – it was Nature that would always, always win.
Rocky’s face was set and white. He tried to kick with the others, holding tightly onto the sticks. If he lost his grip, the girls wouldn’t be able to save him.
‘This sucks!’ he spluttered.
They were only halfway across, and that one exclamation had used up what little energy he had left. It would be so easy to let go and drift, merrily, merrily, downriver to the sea.
Devin released a hand from the bundle of sticks and began frantically paddling.
‘Faster!’ she yelled. ‘The cliffs are coming!’
Eva, on the far side didn’t hear her, but Rocky did. Coming up fast on the opposite bank were steep, metallic grey cliffs, slick with rain. If their river crossing took too long they’d be swept past the shallow flat of the opposite shore and would be unable to climb out.
Rocky kicked both legs as hard as he could, his slashed calf screaming in agony. Eva, who’d now seen the danger, was also using one arm in an awkward freestyle stroke.
Three metres left, two, one … and then they felt slippery rocks underfoot, and they were finally able to stumble up onto the bank. Just in time. The river had now split into two, with a tributary running off at right angles. On the other side were the cliffs, impossible for the girls to climb, let alone Rocky.
They lay there, catching their breath. Eva began to laugh, unable to stop. She rolled onto her back and let the rain slap her in the face. Devin helped Rocky to his feet. He was shaky and white, but he could stand.
‘What’s she on?’ he said, looking at Eva.
Devin didn’t reply. She had a feeling Eva had come to terms with the fact that she was alive and it was okay. Maybe she’d even forgiven herself for being alive while Mandy was dead. She didn’t say anything, though. She was too cold. With numb fingers she untied the backpack and hoisted it on her back, and separated the fishing spear and crutch from the other sticks.
‘Come on. Let’s find somewhere that’s not wet. Eva. We’ve got to go.’
Still hiccupping with laughter, Eva got up, and Rocky slung an arm over her shoulders. He was shivering quite violently now. They hobbled over the rocks and onto a flat expanse of mud littered with sticks. Ahead was a low ridge, and beyond it they could see bush.
‘Let’s just stop.’ Rocky said. ‘We can build something. There’s wood everywhere.’
‘I think we should get higher,’ Devin said. ‘If there’s a flash flood–’
‘You and your flash floods,’ interrupted Rocky. ‘I don’t reckon you’ve got a clue.’
Devin bit her lip. She was used to her opinion meaning nothing to the people around her, but she’d hoped Rocky was beginning to see her differently.
Eva looked at Rocky closely. He was swaying, leaning more heavily, his eyes almost closed. ‘Look at him!’ she said. ‘He’s hypothermic, isn’t he?’
‘Oh shut up,’ Rocky slurred. ‘I don’t even feel cold. Drama queen.’
‘We’ll just climb over that ridge and then we’ll get you dry, all right?’ said Devin.
‘No,’ said Rocky. He pushed them away and sat down. ‘I’m staying right here.’
‘Maybe he’s right,’ said Eva. ‘The river’s far enough away. Can we make those sticks into a hut or something?’
‘We’re still too low,’ said Devin stubbornly. ‘If there’s a–’
Rocky lost his temper. ‘Flash flood, yeah we know, but there isn’t, and there isn’t gonna be, and–’
There was a low, ominous rumbling, and then the sound of waves breaking.
Devin grabbed Rocky under the arms. ‘Get UP,’ she shouted. ‘Can’t you hear it?’
Rocky let the frightened girls drag him to his feet and lug him between them. The three hobbled, stumbled, tripping up over rocks and sticks and uneven earth in a frantic race to reach higher ground. The noise was growing steadily louder, and through the trees they could actually see the surge of muddy water tumbling down the river, pushing a mass of debris before it.
They scrambled up and over the ridge just as a wave of foaming water flooded into the flat space where they’d been just moments before, a wave so powerful it would have certainly knocked them flat before dragging them back into the river again.
They watched in awed silence as the surge sucked away as quickly as it had arrived, leaving a residue of mud and rubbish.
Eva gently nudged Devin with her elbow. ‘You know you’d be wasted as a plumber, right?’
Rocky smiled in agreement, a bleary, weak smile that vanished just as he collapsed.
25
Jahmin was in a quandary.
He’d waited in the mine for ages. Waited for Liam to come back. Waited for the rain to stop. Waited for inspiration.
His first instinct was to follow Liam and make sure he was okay. But Liam had a head start that was growing longer by the minute, and even though he was fairly sure Liam had gone downriver, there was still a chance he hadn’t. Even though Jahmin had joined in the obligatory orienteering activity on every school camp, he knew that without a compass and a friendly teacher pointing him in the right direction, he didn’t have a hope. Even if Liam had spraypainted Liam woz here on trees with arrows, there was a better-than-average chance Jahmin’d get lost.
But what if Liam was right, and Eugene was on a revenge-fuelled rampage? Shouldn’t Jahmin go and find him and help? What if Liam was wrong, though? That would make Liam the revenge-fuelled rampager instead. Then what? Liam would probably head back to the crash site sooner or later. Maybe Jahmin could meet him there. But what if Eugene was alive and got Liam first? Then he’d probably go after the only other witness. What if he was on his way now?
Jahmin’s thoughts went round and round and round, and all of a sudden the mine seemed too small to contain them. He needed to get out, get moving, do something. He felt utterly and horribly alone.
The rain was still coming down hard. As he walked, he scanned the bush for any sign of Liam or Eugene, but there was nothing. It was just him and a lone fantail, flitting about, careless of the rain. Jahmin watched with amusement as it performed spectacular aerial tricks above his head. He’d never seen a bird enjoy the rain so much. It flew ahead of h
im, waited for him to catch up, and then continued on again, upriver towards the crash site.
Soon he reached the cliff that he and Liam had unexpectedly encountered just a few hours before. He stood at the edge, clinging to the same ponga trunk that had saved him from a headfirst tumble, and looked down. The stream below seemed so much more than it had before, and it was littered with branches and debris.
He forced himself to focus not on the river, but on how he was going to cross it. There was a line of bushes sprouting out of the cliff. He could use them as anchors to lower himself down to a jutting outcrop of rock, and then he might just be able reach those moss-covered rocks that formed a bridge across the stream.
His stomach churned. When he’d last seen the stepping stones, they stood clear above the surface. Now their tops were barely visible through the rushing water. If he was going to do it, it had better be now.
He carefully lowered himself over the cliff edge, stretching one leg to reach a slight toehold in a jagged crack, while his fingers groped for and then clutched a mass of wiry little branches. It was easy at first. The roots and branches formed a thick maze of cling-holds, and he was able to get down a metre or so.
He was still less than halfway down when the lifeless watch on his wrist let out a chorus of beeps. Startled in the act of reaching for a branch, he misjudged the distance and grabbed at thin air. Without even time to shout, Jahmin fell, his expensive watch beeping the whole way down, the fantail making joyous loops in the air before flying away, out of sight.
He slammed into the water and right onto the remnants of a clump of bamboo that had worked its way out of some distant hillside, drifted downriver and wedged itself between some rocks. Sharp and vicious, the bamboo pierced his clothing, sliced the skin of his back and legs, and sent a bolt of heat through his skull that made his eyelids twitch and flicker like an old TV set gone haywire.
He shot up towards the surface, spluttering and flailing. The current immediately slammed him against one of the boulders, pinning him like a fist. He protectively drew his knees up and flung his arms out for balance. Underwater, the hidden snare of bamboo stretched up towards him, white bony witch’s fingers clutching at the water’s surface.
Jahmin felt numb. The adrenaline must have kicked in. He did a quick mental inventory and was amazed to find that apart from a few deep scrapes, he was okay. He closed his eyes with relief. For a moment there, he’d thought he was a goner.
The current was dragging at him, trying to nudge him away to the side of the rock. He was sure if he moved an inch in either direction, the current would whip him away downstream. He tried to pull himself up onto the rock, but he couldn’t get a grip on its slick surface. He stretched his legs down to see if he could get a toehold.
‘Oh, piss off,’ he groaned. He pushed up, stood straight, feet flat. The water was barely waist high. He could walk out. He surged through the water, pretending to be first Godzilla, then Gulliver. He found himself highly entertaining.
He splashed up onto land and headed for the trees. The light was fading, and he needed to find shelter before night fell. He stumbled across the thick, fresh mud of the flat and over a ridge. In front of him was a rough little hut made of crosshatched branches balanced against an outcrop of rocks.
Jahmin trotted towards it, hardly able to believe what he was seeing, and fell to his knees at the entrance. He began to cry, thick sobs almost obscuring the plaintive words. ‘I thought I was the only one. I thought I was the only one.’
26
Eva cried out and clutched at Jahmin as if to make sure he was real. Rocky, conscious but extremely weary, flicked him a tired chin wave, while Devin mumbled something welcoming in his general direction. She’d never spoken to Jahmin before. He was not only one of the cool kids, he was a rich kid too, which made him doubly intimidating.
Jahmin crouched inside the entrance, trying not to drip on the others, who were snuggled up like kittens in a basket.
Rocky, nestled between the two girls, had Mandy’s pink cardy wrapped around his head to help conserve heat. With a gleam of malice, Eva had tied the arms so they stuck up, and he looked a bit like the Easter Bunny. She sniggered every time she looked at him.
Devin cleared her throat. ‘Um …’
Eva glanced at her and grinned, ‘Go on. He won’t bite.’
Devin looked anywhere but at Jahmin as she muttered, ‘You could, er, take off your wet, er, clothes. If you want.’
Jahmin glanced at Eva, who shrugged.
‘Just go with it. She’s always right, our Devin,’ said Eva.
Devin blushed. It was nice being described as ‘our Devin’. She used Jahmin’s wet gear to wad up some holes in the sides of their rough shelter, while Jahmin, lean and pale in a pair of grey designer boxers, crawled in beside Eva. He raised himself up on one elbow and looked at everyone happily.
‘Can’t believe it. You guys made it.’
‘Just.’ Eva flinched away as Jahmin leaned against her. ‘OMG, you’re freakin’ freezing!’ The icy cold of his skin was seeping through her clothes.
‘I don’t feel that cold. Must be cos I’m tough.’
‘Well, you’re here, so yes, you’re tough as.’
‘As tough as you lot. How’d you make it out?’
When nobody responded – Rocky due to weariness and Devin to crippling shyness – Eva summarised their story in a few quick sentences.
Jahmin was genuinely impressed with Eva’s description of Devin’s survival skills. ‘You caught an eel barehanded? For reals?’
Devin muttered something inaudible. Rocky and Eva shared a look of amusement.
Jahmin regarded Devin closely. He’d never paid much attention to her before. She wasn’t bad looking, actually. He suddenly felt a need to show off.
‘I’ve only ever had jellied eels.’
‘Oh yeah, where?’ jeered Eva. ‘Paris, I suppose? London? Somewhere la-di-da, I bet. Well, I can tell you, your wanky eel was nothing on ours. Snatched from its den, mangled with a rock, burnt over a driftwood fire, that’s the only way to do it …’ she winked at Devin, ‘ay, babe?’
Devin was so overcome at the casual endearment, she turned a strangled purple.
Rocky spoke quickly to take the attention off her. ‘Oi, shut up talking about food. I’m staaaaarving.’
‘When the rain stops, we’ll go fishing,’ Eva said. ‘Devin made a fishing spear.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Jahmin, his face woeful, but his eyes merry. ‘I’ve only ever had jellied fish.’
Being back among familiar faces made Jahmin feel euphoric. He almost forgot his own experience, until everyone fell silent and looked at him expectantly. He thought back to the beginning, screwing his face up in an effort to remember the details.
‘I don’t remember falling, but I remember the bus hitting the water all right. It was dark – bubbles and crap everywhere. Didn’t know which way was up, and then this hand reached down, grabbed my shirt and dragged me up out of the water. It was Liam. He saved my life.’
He saw Eva’s eyes, big and round, and unconsciously slowed and deepened his voice to extract as much drama from his tale as he could. Jahmin loved an audience.
‘He kicked out a window, like this.’ Jahmin lay on his back and violently pushed up with his feet, almost knocking off the roof of the hut. ‘And then he climbed out, pulled me up on top, and we rode that damn thing downriver like it was a bucking bronco. Chuh-hooo!’
The others laughed.
‘I was freaking out, thinking the bus was going to flip over and crush us underwater, or whatever. And then there was this massive, rushing, booming noise, and I looked up and there was the Biggest Waterfall Ever.’
Devin gasped and clutched at Rocky’s arm before she realised what she was doing and dropped it as if it was a live rat.
‘I yelled for Liam to get out of the bus–’
‘I thought you were both already out?’ interrupted Eva.
Rocky shushed her.
‘So anyway, he crawled out and I grabbed him, and he saw the falls and went white, like death white, and I was thinking, man, that’s how I must look right now, you know? And … we jumped. Swam hard out, only just made it. We missed it by that much. I thought we were toast. And then we had to hike through this swampy bit to get into the bush and then …’
His voice trailed off. There was a short silence, and then Eva asked what they were all thinking. ‘But where’s Liam now?’
Jahmin didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to cause Liam any trouble. But they were all survivors. They deserved to know what had happened.
‘Eugene was on the bus, trapped under some seats. Liam went back in to get him. But …’ He shook his head. ‘He had to leave Eugene there, all right? He had no choice. We had to jump.’
‘He’s dead? Eugene’s dead?’
Rocky closed his eyes as an unexpected stab of grief passed through him. He’d always tried to be kind to Eugene. Instinctively, he’d felt that Eugene might have been a better person, if only he had a little more tenderness in his life. It hurt that Eugene was dead. Eva, however, didn’t look particularly moved, and Devin’s face was carefully blank.
‘When we got into the bush, Liam got it into his head that Eugene made it out. He thought Eugene was following us. He went to get him.’
Rocky didn’t understand. ‘So where are they now?’
‘No, not get him. Get rid of him.’