The Survivors

by Jane Harper

  But no, Kieran was serious. Because all he could think of was Finn’s warning.

  If you’re in here at high tide, you are not coming out.

  Kieran had grabbed Olivia’s arm and they’d waded through the oily blackness. The relief as they’d hit open air had vanished immediately when they splashed out of the cave and into daylight that was more like night. The beach had disappeared. The peak of each wave reached his chest. His skin stung in the driving rain and the sea slapped high against the rock.

  The dark twin mouths of the caves inhaled huge lungfuls of water before spewing them out again, and the currents clawed at Kieran’s legs, trying to knock his feet out from under him. He wiped the water from his eyes and tried to work out which way to aim to pick up the cliff path that led away from the beach and up to safety. He couldn’t see it. Everything seemed different.

  ‘Shit, Kieran, look.’ Olivia’s voice was snatched away and he had squinted against the rain hammering down on the open sea. And it was wide open, he realised. There was nothing between them and the horizon, and all at once he knew why everything felt so wrong.

  The Survivors were gone.

  Where they should have been standing solid and secure with their heads always rising above the water, there was only angry ocean and a grey-black horizon. They were fully submerged, swallowed whole by the swell. Kieran had never before seen that. The fear that had been brewing inside him, strong and dark and deep, exploded to the surface.

  ‘We have to get higher.’

  He’d grabbed Olivia’s hand. The bottom of the cliff path was under the waves but they had forced their way, half swimming and half wading, to where it should have been. Olivia lost her footing first, and Kieran heard her gasp as she went under. He plunged in his other hand, dragging her up until she appeared, red-faced and choking. Moments later, he stumbled and the world was instantly swallowed up.

  He felt himself dragged in one direction by the water and another by Olivia, and then it was his turn to burst through the surface, back into the roar of the storm. They pushed forward, Kieran counting the steps in his head until he felt the sand give way to rock under his feet. He felt light-headed with relief. They had found the path.

  As the tide sucked out, gathering momentum, he put his hands on Olivia’s waist and hoisted her up. She clambered higher, her bare legs leaving a bloody smear where she grazed them against the rock. She had lain flat on her stomach, shielding her face from the sheets of rain, stretching down to help him. She’d yelled something that Kieran couldn’t hear over the shrieking wind.

  He never reached her. The water slammed into him and next time he could see he was far away.

  Olivia had untangled the waterproof bag from around her wrist and wrenched it open, using her phone to call for help. Kieran didn’t know if he really remembered seeing her do that, or if he’d conjured the memory from what he’d learned afterwards. He’d heard a snatch of his name being shouted into the squall and fought to swim towards her voice. He couldn’t make any ground.

  The waves were monstrous. He was tossed upwards then pulled so deep he couldn’t tell which way to fight for the surface. He didn’t know how long he was under for. Long enough that his lungs were empty in a way he had never felt before.

  And then, suddenly, where there had been nothing but water, there was rock. Hard and brutal, it hurtled towards him with enough force to make his teeth rattle. When the water pulled back, Kieran was still chest down, his face slick against the solid surface. Breathless and bleeding, he had raised his head and seen Olivia screaming something at him. She was pointing in a frantic gesture.

  ‘Go up! Up! Get higher!’

  Kieran had stumbled to his feet and, mustering every shred of the muscle he had worked so hard for all summer in the gym, started to climb. He hauled himself up to a craggy hole in the cliff face, buoyed at the end by the tip of a wave that a second earlier and a metre lower would have dragged him back under.

  Kieran clung to that spot, sucking in ragged breaths and hearing his heart pound as he pulled himself further in. He could make out the edge of the cliff path a short way up and across but it may as well have been a million miles away. He couldn’t find the strength or courage to move. He was still lying there, with stinging eyes and aching lungs, when he saw a flash of colour out on the water. It took him a long, slow moment to realise what he was seeing.

  It was his brother’s boat.

  The Nautilus Black was barely visible as it forged its way through the crashing waves. Past the hidden wreck and past the point where The Survivors should be standing. On, towards the caves.

  Finn is here. It was Kieran’s only clear thought. Finn had come for him. And, amid the pain and cold and the heavy ache in his lungs, in that single moment, Kieran had felt safe.

  Chapter 11

  Finn had taught Kieran all the important stuff. How to swim, how to kick a footy, how to drink. How to talk to other guys. How to talk to girls. People liked Finn. They liked Kieran because he reminded them of Finn, but Finn was the real deal.

  Finn Elliott brought home sporting trophies for Evelyn Bay when he was younger, and brought in tourism dollars when he was older. Finn was the kind of guy who could walk into the Surf and Turf and never have to buy a drink, but he did, often, because Finn was also the kind of guy who stood his round.

  Finn had pounded the streets as a pacesetter when Verity was training for a half-marathon, and he’d got out the ladder and helped Brian clear the leaves from the gutters every autumn, and he’d stood chest-deep in the freezing ocean and showed Kieran how to improve his open water freestyle technique.

  For twenty-six years, Finn was there for the people in his life, and then he wasn’t there at all anymore.

  Kieran couldn’t remember much of the last time he saw Finn, and he was grateful for that, mostly. If Kieran’s memories of leaving the cave were patchy, they shrank to almost nothing once he saw the boat. There was no medical or physical reason for this – that doctor in the Hobart hospital had been right – because his body had recovered well.

  Kieran knew what had happened as he was clinging to the rocks with the waves pounding beneath him, but only because he’d asked and he’d been told. The Nautilus Black, a catamaran specifically chosen by Finn and Toby for its stability and manoeuvrability and all those things that really matter in rough seas, had been unlucky. In a literal perfect storm of events, it had crossed a breaking wave and rolled.

  It still hadn’t sunk, despite the sea’s full fury. The catamaran’s natural buoyancy had kept it on the surface, drifting drunkenly in the rolling green waves with its underside hideously exposed.

  Toby had not even drowned, technically. He’d been slammed against the hull, the impact shattering part of his skull. He had died facedown in the sea without taking in a breath of water. Gone at thirty, leaving behind his wife Sarah and their young son Liam, as well as his own brother Sean.

  Finn had drowned, though. He had been tangled, life jacket and all, when the boat flipped, trapping him below the surface. Finn was submerged in the end for nearly an hour, of which only the first four minutes had counted.

  Kieran should be able to remember all that if he wanted to, he’d been told a few times. The lack of clarity was a defence mechanism, not a physical problem. But he didn’t want to remember, so he didn’t. Kieran didn’t argue, but he didn’t really believe it either. Because some things he remembered very clearly.

  His parents’ faces in the hospital corridor, for example. Kieran had seen them through the viewing window and tried not to listen to the urgent whispered conversation that ended with Verity entering Kieran’s treatment room alone. Kieran had watched the open door, but Brian had never appeared.

  He remembered coming home, later. The shock at the sight of the torn-apart town, still reeling from the storm damage. The strange and unsettling question now hovering around Gabrielle Birch’s
whereabouts. Brian retreating to his study for hours and then days. The sound of muffled crying in the house.

  Kieran would have given a lot not to remember those things, and yet he did, all the time.

  Ash had rung the front doorbell on Kieran’s second day home, and the pair had sat in silence, watching TV with blank eyes, neither able to think of a thing to say. Ash had come back again, though, and on the fourth visit he’d brought Sean with him.

  ‘It was an accident –’ Kieran had stood opposite Sean in the house that felt too big. Brian locked in his study, Verity sleeping a lot. Sean’s gaze had moved around the living room he’d been in a thousand times and landed on a framed photo of Finn. Finn, smiling and happy, and just as dead as Sean’s own brother, Toby.

  Kieran was still struggling to find the words when Sean had stopped him.

  ‘I know, mate. It’s okay.’

  The relief had been blinding.

  ‘It was an accident,’ Sean had repeated, in a quiet voice that sounded like an attempt to convince himself. He seemed to need to hear it almost as much as Kieran. ‘The storm was worse than any of us thought.’

  Things with Sean had been different after that, but everything was. Kieran was just grateful they were still speaking.

  No-one knew that Olivia had also been down in the caves, Kieran had realised in hospital. By then there seemed no point in dragging her into it too. She’d been the one to sound the alarm, but in the chaos it had been assumed she’d been up on the cliff path when she’d spotted Kieran in the water.

  By the time anyone would have thought to check the finer details, the search for Gabby Birch was well into its urgent phase, and every question directed Olivia’s way was focused exclusively on attempts to find her fourteen-year-old sister.

  Kieran had tried a few times to call and text Olivia, but she’d never replied. Kieran hadn’t been totally surprised. He wasn’t sure what he would have said if she had.

  A joint funeral was held for Finn and Toby on the basis that the list of mourners overlapped almost entirely. Olivia hadn’t come, but Kieran hadn’t been surprised about that either. After all, by then Gabby’s backpack had been found.

  The doorway of Fisherman’s Cottage remained empty. Olivia was still inside. Ash checked the time yet again on his phone.

  ‘Do you think there’s something –’ He broke off as two men came around the side of the house. Kieran was a little surprised to see that one of them was Julian Wallis, looking more composed than he had earlier at the Surf and Turf. His granite features were back in place as he pointed out security features to a police officer armed with a camera.

  ‘Deadlocks on the exterior doors,’ Julian was saying.

  ‘You installed them, or they were here when you bought the place?’ the officer asked.

  A pause. ‘They were already in.’

  He made a note. ‘How long have you owned this house?’

  ‘Six years.’

  ‘Changed the locks at all in that time?’

  ‘No. I mean –’ Julian looked thrown. He ran a hand over his cropped silver hair. ‘Should I have?’

  ‘Just confirming.’ The officer made a carry on gesture. Julian gathered himself and pointed up. ‘Security light up there, as well. Motion activated. I installed that.’

  ‘Your local sergeant said that bulb had blown,’ the officer said neutrally, snapping a photo.

  Julian stared up at it, betrayal in every feature. ‘The girls didn’t report it. I’d have put in a new one if they had.’

  The officer simply raised his camera again, noncommittal, and took another photo. He squinted at the screen.

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Wait here. I’ll check if your sergeant needs anything else.’

  Julian watched the man disappear through the front door of his investment property, his jaw set. He turned, seemingly noticing Kieran and Ash for the first time, and walked over, leaning heavily against the fence.

  ‘How’s Liam?’ Ash said.

  ‘You’ve heard, then? About him driving her home?’

  ‘Think everyone has, mate.’

  ‘Well, that’s all he did, if anyone’s asking.’ Julian sighed. ‘He’s not doing well. Sarah’s with him. She’s not too good either.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘They don’t deserve this.’ Julian didn’t exactly look at Kieran. ‘Neither of them. Reckon they’ve earned their peace and quiet.’

  The note of accusation was faint, but it came through on a frequency to which Kieran was highly attuned. He said nothing in response, simply letting his reaction rise and fade and pass as his last counsellor had recommended.

  Instead, Kieran looked up the road, where in the distance he could nearly make out his parents’ house. Mia was there waiting for him, and he had the urge to be near her. He pushed himself away from the fence then stopped as there was movement and Olivia came out of the cottage. She was clutching a few small items in her hands and had a troubled look on her face.

  Sergeant Renn filled the doorway behind her. He saw Julian and beckoned.

  ‘Quick word, please, mate.’

  ‘Of course. No worries.’ Julian dutifully headed up the path towards Renn. They disappeared inside, and the door shut again.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Ash reached out his hand to Olivia. ‘What did they want?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ She seemed a little shell-shocked. ‘He kept asking the same things as this morning. Stuff about Bronte. What did she talk about? What did she do when she wasn’t at work? Who came to visit her at the house? But it was like he wanted something specific.’

  ‘Like what?’ Ash said.

  ‘I don’t know, but I don’t think I was giving it to him.’

  ‘What did you tell them?’

  ‘Everything I could think of. That she had that boyfriend, Marco, for a while. How she was out of the house a lot getting ideas for her art. Bringing back seaweed and stuff she’d found.’ Olivia stopped as the shadow of an officer appeared in the front window then moved away again. ‘Chris asked if anything was missing.’

  ‘Was there?’ Kieran said.

  ‘All my things were okay. Bronte’s purse and phone are on the counter. And the rent money’s in cash on top of the fridge and that’s still there. But –’ She held out her hands to show a packet of birth control pills and a contact lens case and solution. ‘This is all they would let me take. Chris checked it over. And they’re still in her room. I think they’re looking for something.’

  Ash ran his tongue over his teeth. ‘And he wouldn’t help you out?’ He looked at his girlfriend. ‘Give you a clue?’

  Olivia had spent much of her eighteenth year pretending not to notice that the new young constable in town had an embarrassingly obvious crush on her. She had never acknowledged it, and then twenty-seven-year-old Chris Renn had done his very professional best to hide it, but the telltale blush that used to creep up his neck tended to betray him.

  ‘No. He wouldn’t, actually.’ Olivia looked at the house, and seemed unsure what to make of that.

  They all jumped a little as the door opened and Julian reappeared. Kieran could see Chris Renn in the hallway. He was talking into his mobile. He noticed Kieran watching and slowly reached out and tapped the door shut again.

  Julian came down the path and ducked under the police tape at the gate.

  ‘Listen, Liv, this goes without saying, but don’t worry about the rent for now. If you still want to stay on afterwards –’ Julian jerked his head awkwardly at the police car. ‘We’ll work something out.’

  ‘Thanks, Julian.’

  There was a pause. ‘You didn’t tell me the security bulb was blown.’ He tried and failed to keep the note of reproach out of his voice.

  ‘I thought Bronte mentioned it.’

  ‘She didn’t.’

  ‘Oh.’ Ol
ivia rubbed her eyes. ‘Well, I don’t know what I can tell you, Julian. You know what she was like.’

  ‘Yeah. Of course.’ He checked himself. ‘Sorry. It’s just been a bloody long day already. You’ll be right staying at Ash’s for now?’

  Olivia shook her head. ‘My mum wants me at home with her.’

  ‘Fair enough. I probably would too. All right, well, call me if you need anything, yeah? Don’t hesitate, okay?’

  She nodded and Ash put his arm around her.

  ‘Let’s get going,’ he said, and then turned back to Kieran. ‘Speak to you soon, mate.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Kieran watched them walk away together.

  He had never told Ash about his meetings with Olivia at the caves, or that she had been with him on the day of the storm. Whether Olivia had told him, he supposed, depended on how close she and Ash were. Kieran couldn’t guess.

  He turned towards home himself, raising a hand to Julian. ‘See you around.’

  ‘Sure,’ Julian said. ‘And hey, is your dad okay? After last night?’

  Kieran stopped. ‘What?’

  ‘Hope he wasn’t left too confused. It was me who found him this time.’ Julian clocked Kieran’s own confusion and frowned. ‘Sorry, I thought Verity would’ve said. Brian was out wandering again.’

  ‘Wandering? Again?’ Kieran stared at him. ‘How long has he been doing that for?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Julian said. ‘But he was doing it last night.’

  ‘Where?’ But Kieran was already picturing the hallway of his parents’ house that morning. The broom propped up against the wall. The sand scattered across the floorboards. He felt a sudden overwhelming urge to get home, right now.

  ‘He was walking along the road here, a bit after midnight, when I was driving home.’

  ‘And you saw him, did you?’

  ‘Yeah, luckily. I was doing the quarterly payroll, so it took me a while to cash up, otherwise I might have missed him. I called Verity, let her know. Your dad won’t get in the car with anyone he doesn’t recognise these days, so –’ Julian shook his head. ‘Well, you know how he is. So I followed him along the road. Drove behind until your mum came out and got him.’