by Steph Matuku
On the ground next to the case lay a bizarre flower, the petals made of rings and bracelets, the stems and leaves from necklaces and chains. Scattered above, like little flying insects, were earrings, their sparkle dimmed by splashes of blood.
Jahmin swallowed, imagining Idelle sliding earrings off dead ears. The food and first aid gear he could understand, but the jewellery was just macabre.
He gathered up all the food, the first aid kit and most of the toiletries, grinning happily as he found a wide-toothed comb. He wrapped it all in a waterproof raincoat, bundled it into a small backpack and zipped it shut. Then he thought for a minute, opened the backpack and took out half the food, including the muesli bars, the ones he knew Eva didn’t like, and left them on Idelle’s nest. All that dancing would work up an appetite.
Clothes were the next thing. Idelle had tons of them in the tent. Jahmin gathered up warm layers and a couple of lavalavas. He crunched up two sleeping bags and stuffed them into a third, along with the clothes. He threw in a torch too, and a couple of pocket knives.
Jahmin stuck his head out of the tent. Idelle was still dancing under the spaceship, the metal hull gleaming in the sunlight. He slid the backpack on and hoisted the full sleeping bag over his shoulder, like a Santa sack. As he headed down to the river, he paused to grab his Game Boy. It may have been old, but the sentimental value was priceless.
He was about to wade into the water when his conscience got the better of him. He called out. ‘Idelle?’
She didn’t break off her gyrating, and at first Jahmin thought she hadn’t heard him. But then she stopped and turned around to glare at him.
He almost screamed. The bottom half of her face had been bitten off. From her lips down was as red as a shiny apple. And then, as she stretched her lips in either a smile or a snarl, he realised her face was intact but covered in thick blood streaming from her nose and down her neck.
She shrieked with fury and tore down the slope, straight at him. He stood there, frozen, still holding the supplies, and then she was on him, scrabbling at him with long jagged nails, kicking him, shrieking into his shocked face, ‘Mine! Mine!’
He went down backwards, and she straddled him, pinning his arms at his sides. She locked her hands together and swung them like a baseball bat at his face, a vicious punch that would have knocked him out, if he hadn’t been dead already. As it was, the force of the blow cracked his head sideways, and he found himself spitting dirt.
Managing to get one arm free, he shot a hand up and grabbed her slippery, bloodied throat. She tore at his hand, but Jahmin’s grip was strong, and within moments he’d forced her off him. He pushed her down into the dirt as he got up, his disgust mingled with pity as he watched her writhing on the ground at his feet, clutching her bruised throat, croaking, ‘Mine! Mine!’
He backed off and she staggered to her feet, glaring at him, her pupils dilated like Liam’s had been, dead black holes in a mindless space. Her gaze flicked away and settled on the huge spaceship above them, her expression becoming serene.
‘Mine,’ she murmured. ‘Mine.’
Jahmin grabbed the supplies and headed for the river. Dragging everything through the water took a little more effort than when he’d been empty-handed, but it didn’t take him long to reach the other side.
He was just moving into the undergrowth when a sound made him hesitate. A sound he’d been waiting to hear for what seemed a very long time.
44
Eva decided she’d had enough.
‘This sucks. No offence, Rocky.’
She and Devin lowered the stretcher, and Eva promptly collapsed on her back, staring blankly at the thick canopy above.
Devin thankfully sank to the ground alongside her. Her arms felt like pieces of wet string. ‘How far do you think we’ve got to go?’
‘Still not a GPS. Still don’t know.’
‘I’m really sorry,’ said Rocky. He felt stupid, just lying there. It had been extremely uncomfortable being jounced over bumps and dips and rocks, but he hadn’t uttered a word of complaint. That would have seemed ungrateful. Mind you, his leg wasn’t hurting as much as it had. In fact, now he thought about it, the pain had been replaced by that strange cold sensation he’d felt earlier. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign, or a sign that his nerve endings were dying. He was almost too afraid to look, but he sat up anyway and eased the bandage off his leg.
‘What are you doing?’ Devin said in alarm. ‘Is it hurting?’ She kept her eyes firmly focused on the ground. It was only when she looked at his face that things started going a little bit Kama Sutra.
‘No, not at all. Look.’
His tone was so light-hearted that Devin chanced a quick glance up. The swelling and vivid red streaks had disappeared. The gash had knitted together, her once taut stitches now drooping and superfluous.
‘But … that’s impossible.’ She’d seen his wound less than an hour ago. There was no way on earth …
Eva had a quick look and then fell back again, uninterested. ‘It’s getting better,’ she said, yawning. ‘That’s good.’
Rocky grinned. ‘I thought it’d have to be chopped off or something. But look at it! It’s heaps better. Heaps.’
‘Impossible,’ Devin repeated.
‘Impossible is a zombie. Impossible is a ghost,’ said Eva, lazily. ‘Impossible is …’
A spaceship.
‘So it went and fixed my leg instead of mucking around with my head? How come?’
‘Who cares?’ Eva said. ‘At least you’re not like Idelle, stark naked and dancing the hoochie cooch. Or like us. Mental. Or like Jahmin …’ She broke off as there came a low, buzzing sound – a sound they’d been waiting to hear for what seemed a very long time.
‘A helicopter! They’re here! We’re saved, oh my God. We’re saved.’ Eva flung her arms around Devin and hugged her tight, giggling with happiness. ‘No more eel. Oh, thank God.’
‘We should head into the open,’ Rocky said urgently. ‘They won’t see us under the trees. What if they miss us?’
‘They’d better not!’ Eva said. ‘Quick, we’ll head to the river, wave them down. Rocky, you’ll have to stay put for a bit.’
The buzzing, which had been growing louder and louder, was suddenly replaced by a high-pitched whining that was abruptly cut off by a huge boom. A feathery column of black smoke coiled up over the trees.
‘Crashed?’ cried Eva. ‘It can’t have!’
‘Look,’ said Rocky, ‘here comes another one!’
Above the thick canopy of trees, they caught a glimpse of a sleek black helicopter, emblazoned with the distinctive curling logo of the Seddon Corporation. It was weaving erratically but still on course. They instinctively ducked, leaves and debris whirling about them, and then they heard the motor cut out and try to start up again. Twenty seconds later, they heard a massive splash and then a loud clatter that sounded like hail on galvanised iron.
‘Why do they keep doing that?’ cried Eva.
‘It’s the ship,’ Devin groaned. ‘It’s messing with their heads and probably the engines or something.’
Eva gaped at her. ‘But–’
‘What’s Seddon Corp got to do with it?’ said Rocky, half to himself. ‘Not Search and Rescue. Or the Army. Isn’t that weird?’ He raised his voice. ‘Don’t you think that’s weird?’
Eva was distraught. ‘Who cares? Maybe it’s Jahmin’s dad looking for him or something. We’ve got to go!’
She dragged at Devin’s hand, urging her forward, but Devin pulled back, her head cocked to one side. After the rotary blades and engines and explosions there was just … nothing. No birdsong, no buzzing insects; only the rush of the river, muffled by the trees.
The hair on Devin’s arms stood on end and her skin prickled. Instinctively she drew nearer to Eva. ‘Let’s just wait here for Jahmin,’ she whispered.
‘What’s wrong?’ Eva said, but Devin knew she felt it too.
Something bad.
45
Jahmin had gone, just like Theo, but Idelle couldn’t remember why or when. There wasn’t enough room in her head for thinking. The beat was back, and she was almost at one with it again when there was an explosion and then an intense vibrating noise. She hesitated, stumbled a little, regained some sense of time and place.
She shaded her eyes and looked downriver. Black smoke was twisting lazily from a pile of wreckage against the base of the cliff, and a black helicopter was weaving towards her. The thunder of its engine cut out and it fell from the sky like a stone, straight into the river, blades snapping as it landed sideways. A dirty, frothy wave curled over the bank. Two men clambered out, dressed from head to toe in sleek metallic black, focused and silent.
Idelle’s perplexed expression cleared. They were here. Finally, it was time to declare herself as The Girl Who Discovered The Spaceship. Finally, her time had come.
She walked towards them, smiling. She felt like an empress, a queen.
‘It’s mine!’ she called. ‘I found it! I found–’
One of the men raised an assault rifle and opened fire.
As it turned out, Idelle’s time was over before it had even begun.
46
Jahmin had waved, but no one had seen him, and then when the choppers crashed into the river, he’d stood frozen, not knowing what to do. Watching Idelle being blown backwards across the gravel in a spray of blood was the jolt he needed to get moving. Heaving the water-soaked sleeping bag over his shoulder, he slipped into the trees and went as fast as he could downriver, hoping the others were undercover.
He found them huddling together under the trees like a litter of baby rabbits, eyes wide and scared. His relief was enormous, but there was no time. He handed the bulging sleeping bag to Devin and hoisted Rocky up off the stretcher.
‘We’ve got to go, man. They just shot Idelle.’
Eva let out a squeak of surprise. Jahmin slung Rocky’s arm around his shoulder, rattling off words like an auctioneer on fast forward.
‘Ten bucks says it’s because she saw that thing. And what do you think’s gonna happen if they find out we’ve seen it too? If they don’t kill us, they’ll find some other way to keep us quiet. Come on. We’ve got to get out of here. Rocky, I can carry you if it’s easier.’
‘Nah, I’m sweet, my leg’s awesome. I’ll lean on you.’
Eva was almost gibbering with shock. ‘I don’t understand. They shot her? But …’
Devin untangled the clothes from the stretcher and stuffed them in Mandy’s backpack, before tossing the remains of the stretcher into the trees. ‘He’s right, Eva. We have to go. Now.’
Jahmin led the way, Rocky stumbling determinedly alongside, Eva and Devin bringing up the rear. They slipped between the trees and then they were gone.
47
She was so scared that she was going to be the only one, watching and waiting until she died, but then there was another surge of energy and a light flickered before settling into a steady ambient glow. The Medic sat up, dizzy from being inert for so long, even though her bodily functions had been restored to almost optimal levels. The platform across the gangway glowed white in the gloom. Carefully, the Medic slid off her own platform to check. It was going to be all right. Someone else was awake. The Designer was awake.
48
The Seddon Corporation took up half a city block, an imposing tower of steel and concrete stretching up from the surrounding buildings, an accusing finger pointed at the heavens. A soft glow lit up the ground floor where two night security guards patrolled, but otherwise the building was in darkness.
Apart from a single light, right at the top.
Inside his luxurious office, Griff McKenzie had just finished briefing his two right-hand men, Jesse and Moses. Jesse was thin, with a face as blank as a bank teller, and Moses looked like a Victorian gravedigger, with bristly ginger hair growing out of his ears, and fists like Christmas hams. Moses still looked a little confused by all the instructions he’d just been given, but Griff knew that Jesse would set him straight. Jess was good like that.
Griff was pouring bourbon into a crystal glass when there was a tap at the door. It was his nephew, Peter Proctor. Irritably, he waved Peter in as Moses and Jesse left.
Peter went straight to the window and peered out at the city lights far below, his chubby round face reflected in the pane.
‘Man, you’ll be in trouble if there’s an earthquake,’ he remarked. ‘This place is gonna go down like Jenga. Lucky you’ll be on top, though.’ He turned to face Griff and gazed thirstily at the decanter.
Griff stoppered it. ‘Your mother says you’re between jobs at the moment.’ That wasn’t exactly what his sister had said. There had been a lot more swearing. Having her twenty-one-year-old, fairly useless son still living at home wasn’t just cramping her style, it had completely crushed it. ‘She’s asked me to help you.’
‘Oh, that’s the thing, see,’ said Peter. ‘I was talking to this guy who runs this club down on Courtenay, and he’s looking for bar staff and–’
Griff picked up a remote and turned on the TV, effectively shutting Peter up as the urgent drumbeats of the news theme filled the room.
Scowling, Peter dropped onto the plush leather couch.
A handsome young man, soberly dressed in charcoal grey, stood at a lectern crowded with microphones. The silver and green SC logo was displayed prominently on a drop-down panel behind him.
A voiceover said, ‘Seddon Corporation held another press conference this evening, to announce the latest developments in their search for the missing Kōtuku High School students.’
The screen flashed to a picture of the packed room. All journalists, Griff was pleased to note. No family members had managed to sneak their way in this time. There was nothing to distract from the message Seddon was delivering.
The camera zoomed in to the young man at the lectern. His name was captioned at the bottom of the TV screen: Nathan Hunter, Exploration Division. After the last debacle, Kathy Burgess, the real head of the department, had been banned from giving any kind of statement to the press ever again. Griff had to thank her for alluding to the ‘C’ word, though. Her mention of cancerous radiation waves had ensured all his personnel kept their protective uniforms on, no matter what.
Nathan Hunter knew nothing about exploration. He didn’t need to. He was an extremely good-looking PR ring-in, who, with his background in stage acting, had a reassuring manner that inspired trust. He faced the cameras now with no sign of discomfort.
‘The news of the missing Kōtuku High School students has affected everyone in New Zealand, and at Seddon Corporation too, with some of our own employees’ children among the missing.’
The logo on the drop-down panel vanished, to be replaced by a picture of a cheeky, grinning Joshua Worthington, son of the high-flying Seddon executive Kane Worthington. It was followed by a not-so-flattering picture of Awhina Thomas, with black winged eyeliner and a Pucci-style headband in her hair. Her mother was an accountant somewhere deep in the Seddon Corp labyrinth. She wasn’t in the same league as Worthington, but it wouldn’t have been good PR to leave her out.
‘We want to reassure whānau and all of New Zealand that Seddon is leading the search in a competent, efficient manner. We’re working with government agencies, as well as donating equipment, personnel and, of course, contributing significant amounts of funding that would otherwise be unavailable. You can trust that we are doing all we can during this difficult time.’
Griff swirled the remaining liquid in his glass. It didn’t matter how much they tried to reassure everyone, the families especially were getting impatient and were still asking awkward questions. Why couldn’t they find them? Why couldn’t they go and help? It was Day Four. Surely they should have found something by now? Even if it was just a broken bus wing mirror, at least it would be something.
The picture of Nathan Hunter squashed down into a little spinning cube and whizzed off the screen to be re
placed by the porcelain face of the female news anchor, her voice throbbing with a concern that her botoxed features were unable to match.
‘Seddon Corporation says that the electromagnetic fields, combined with the rough terrain and unstable ground, are hampering rescue efforts as well as interfering with satellite technology usually employed in operations of this nature. We will keep you informed as this story develops.’
The news shifted onto a beehived celebrity falling out of a restaurant on spindly high heels, and Griff turned the TV off. Nathan hadn’t done a bad job. The boy had been careful not to say much, but his demeanour would have impressed the viewers. And, Griff noted drily, the fact that he was no one of note would make him a terrific fall guy if everything turned to custard.
He glanced over at Peter, who eyeballed him back in a most infuriating manner.
‘What have you heard about it?’
‘She’s had a few Hollywood blockbusters, and she put out a song around Christmas, but it wasn’t very good.’ Peter ducked as the TV remote just missed his face. ‘I was joking! Jeez.’
‘I don’t like you, Peter,’ Griff said, holding up a warning finger as Peter began to protest. ‘I don’t like your attitude. I don’t like the way you’ve wasted every opportunity we’ve ever given you. And I especially don’t like your hair.’
Peter raised a hand to his spiky black mop and quickly lowered it again.
‘But even if you do have your father’s name, you’re still a Seddon. And being a Seddon means that at some stage you’re going to have to assume responsibility, God help us. That’s why you’re going down to the basement. You’re going to report to Moses and Jesse and get on a truck to the airfield. And then you’ll be joining our security operations in Zone 12.’