The Survivors

by Jane Harper

  Kieran blinked, not understanding what he was seeing. The bag was filled with rocks. He put his hand in and pulled out the top one. It was definitely a rock, the kind that lay around every garden or pathway in Evelyn Bay. He turned it over in his hand. It seemed completely unremarkable. He put it down on the sand, then reached in again and again. Soon he had a small pile of rocks and a completely empty backpack. Kieran felt around inside, checking for anything caught in the lining or an inside pocket. There was nothing else in there.

  He sat back on the sand and picked up the bag itself. There was no nametag, nothing to indicate who it belonged to, but as he turned it over he stopped. Across the back, and hard to make out in what was left of the light, he saw something. The writing had been made on the pale grey canvas in permanent black marker. It had survived the water unscathed.

  A phone number, and two words: Please call.

  Chapter 21

  Kieran stared at the two words until the letters started to lose meaning. Then he replaced each rock in the bag and carried the whole thing back along the beach to where his towel, clothes and phone were still waiting for him on the sand beyond his parents’ verandah. He picked up his phone, turned the bag over and dialled the number. He listened without speaking, then slowly hung up.

  Kieran slipped his hoodie on and, at a loss what to do next, sat on his towel with the backpack at his feet and the clear starry sky above him. He stared out at the perfect straight line where the inky sky met the blackness of the water, thinking. He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, but his board shorts had almost dried when his phone pinged in his hand.

  Kieran wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but when he checked the screen it was simply an alert that reminded him to stop for two minutes and be fully aware and present in his surroundings. He was supposed to do it every day but hadn’t managed once since he’d been back in Evelyn Bay. He was still gazing at his phone and debating whether or not he could face doing it now when a noise made him jump.

  ‘G’day,’ a voice called. ‘What’s got you so engrossed?’

  ‘Hardcore porn.’ Kieran swiped the screen closed as he turned to see Ash shut the gate behind him and approach across the sand, a sixpack of beer dangling from his hand. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘In that case, you’ve probably got time for at least one,’ Ash said, offering him a bottle. ‘Mia said you were out here.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Kieran took the beer and Ash kicked out a corner of Kieran’s towel and sat down. They both looked out at the water, drinks in hand, the way they had a hundred times before.

  ‘Been swimming?’

  Kieran nodded. ‘Weirdest bloody thing happened.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ Ash lifted the bottle to his lips.

  ‘Yeah.’ Kieran pulled Trish Birch’s wet backpack closer, and told him what he’d seen.

  Ash was quiet when he’d finished. ‘Right.’

  ‘God knows what she’s doing.’ Kieran moved the bag so they could see the writing, hard to make out now in the dark. Please call. ‘That’s Trish’s own mobile number. I rang it, went through to her voicemail.’ He sat back. ‘So, what do you reckon? Do I tell someone? Renn?’

  ‘Well –’ Ash stroked his stubble. He did not seem as surprised by all this as he might be. ‘Maybe don’t. If you don’t mind. Trish does this sometimes.’

  Kieran stared. ‘Sorry, does what exactly?’

  ‘This.’ Ash pointed at the backpack. ‘Chucks a bag of rocks in – yeah, I know mate, it’s insane –’ He grinned despite himself at Kieran’s expression. ‘Sorry, no, it’s not funny at all. And I shouldn’t say insane, that’s not fair.’ Ash’s smile faded. ‘I didn’t know Trish had started again, though. Liv hasn’t said anything, so maybe she doesn’t know either.’

  ‘What is it she’s doing, though?’

  Ash took a long pull on his beer and swallowed. ‘It’s something to do with Gabby’s backpack, and where it was found after she went missing. The bag washing ashore three days later, right by the place Gabby was last seen?’ Ash shrugged. ‘Trish has got it into her head that there’s no way it could have happened like that.’

  ‘But it did,’ Kieran said. ‘That’s where it was found.’

  ‘Yeah, Trish reckons it was dumped.’

  There was a long silence.

  ‘She thinks Gabby’s bag was dumped?’

  ‘Yep,’ Ash said. ‘Deliberately. I guess so it would be found in the water and the search called off, whatever. I don’t know.’

  ‘Are you kidding?’

  ‘No.’

  Kieran looked down the dark beach. He could no longer make out the spot where he had watched Trish Birch. The same spot where Gabby had last been seen by Brian twelve years earlier, and where her purple-striped backpack full of library books had been found sandy and sea-drenched on the shore, after three days of searching. Kieran turned back to Ash.

  ‘Dumped by who?’

  ‘Who knows?’ Ash shrugged. ‘That’d be the big question, I guess.’

  ‘Has Trish talked to Renn about it?’

  ‘Yeah, she has. I mean, I only know all this through Liv. But it started a while ago, around the ten-year anniversary mark –’ Kieran remembered Olivia mentioning the anniversary in the cemetery. What had she said? Mum found it hard. Clearly.

  ‘– and I guess Trish felt Renn wasn’t taking her seriously enough,’ Ash was saying. ‘So she started testing it out. Throwing backpacks in, seeing what happened to them.’

  ‘And what did happen?’

  Ash shrugged. ‘I think most disappeared without a trace, so God knows how many she chucked in. But one was pulled up in a fishing net, and then another got caught around Mike Tate’s boat propeller. Did a fair bit of damage, so Trish had to come clean. Renn managed to smooth things over, kind of made it go away –’

  ‘That wouldn’t have been too easy. Expensive mistake to fix.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you know –’ Ash drained his bottle and shrugged. ‘Renn’s always had a bit of a thing for Liv. Or maybe he felt guilty for not listening to Trish in the first place, who knows? Anyway –’ Ash reached for another beer. ‘Whatever. He made Trish promise not to do it anymore, but that was around the time she got a bit heavy-handed with the old sleeping pills, so that’s when Liv moved back to keep an eye on her.’

  Kieran looked at the backpack. ‘Do you think Trish has secretly been doing this the whole time, or just started again?’

  ‘Hard to say.’ Ash shook his head. ‘Best guess would be she’s started again. This whole thing with Bronte has sent everyone a bit crazy. Have you seen that online forum? It’s going nuts.’

  ‘EBOCH? Yeah.’

  Kieran had ventured back into the pixelated world of the Evelyn Bay Online Community Hub that afternoon to find things were getting heated. The dam had broken and Liam’s name was being bandied about freely now. Division lines were emerging between those who wanted this whole mess resolved so they could feel comfortable forgetting to lock their doors once more, and those who couldn’t believe the cops were wasting their time looking at a local. Bronte herself, Kieran noticed, was barely mentioned at all.

  He turned back to Ash. ‘I can see what happened to Bronte would feel pretty bloody close to home for Trish. But what’s she hoping for with this backpack thing? That she’ll throw enough of these in to be able to prove some point about Gabby?’

  ‘I have no idea. I suppose so.’

  ‘How many have washed up in that spot?’

  ‘To be fair, not many, as far as I know.’ Ash kicked the bag with his toe. ‘But we’re not exactly talking hard scientific conditions, are we?’ He sighed. ‘Liv won’t be pleased. She was saying before all this that she thought Trish might be turning a corner. Think she was hoping she might be able to head back to Melbourne.’

  ‘Would you go with her?’

  ‘
Think I’d be invited?’ Ash’s tone was light, but Kieran could detect the hint of a genuine question in there.

  ‘I dunno, mate,’ he said, honestly.

  Ash didn’t reply straight away. ‘Liv’s a bit pissed off I wasn’t around earlier, when you guys were at her place with Renn. She says she’s fine but that thing about Bronte’s camera has left her shaken up.’

  ‘Yeah, that was weird. Makes you wonder what’s on it.’

  ‘Or who, eh?’ Ash rubbed his eyes. He sounded tired. ‘I would’ve been there with Liv if I could, but I had clients. I couldn’t just drop them, they’ve got three rental places. I’ll need the business over winter.’

  ‘Work going okay?’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Ash said, but a flat note in his tone suggested it was going no better than that.

  ‘I walked by Wetherby House earlier.’

  Ash looked up at that. ‘Saw G.R. Barlin’s handiwork on the garden?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Ash took a swallow of beer, a long one this time. ‘Yeah,’ he said finally. ‘I’m not sure what I’m going to do about that.’

  ‘There’s not much you can do, is there? Not if he owns the place.’

  Ash didn’t reply and, after a moment, shrugged. The moon had moved across the sky and Kieran was at the bottom of his second bottle when he stifled a yawn.

  ‘I should let you go.’ Ash made to stand up, and brushed the sand off his shorts. ‘You’ve probably got baby duties to attend to.’

  ‘You going home now?’ Kieran said.

  ‘In a while.’

  Kieran looked at him. ‘Avoiding Sean?’

  Ash gave a half-smile. ‘Maybe. He hasn’t been around much himself though. He’s out at the wreck all day every day, then I think he goes to Sarah and Julian’s place to see Liam. Things are weird now. The atmosphere in the house is shit. Sean’s been –’ Ash paused. ‘I don’t even know how to describe it.’

  ‘I suppose he’s worried about Liam.’

  ‘It’s a bit of that. But I think he also knows if it comes down to it, I wouldn’t defend Liam.’

  Any warmth the sand had captured during the day had slipped away now and Kieran felt cold as he stood up. ‘Why not?’

  ‘No inside knowledge or anything.’ Ash took his time draining the last of his beer. ‘Liam just reminds me a bit too much of us.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Kieran thought about the sullen boy and felt almost insulted.

  ‘Yeah. You don’t think so?’

  ‘No –’ Kieran started, then stopped. Maybe.

  ‘It’s a few things. The footy stuff, the boozing, the girls – it’s all the same as it was then. You know what it was like. I suppose it was all good fun, but –’ Ash frowned and examined his empty bottle.

  ‘Right.’

  Because it must have been good fun, Kieran thought, otherwise why did they do it every weekend? But it was interesting looking back how the good fun had sometimes felt a lot like hard work. Like the time Finn had congratulated Ash for successfully talking some girl into taking him back to her accommodation. On hearing this, Kieran had rolled up his sleeves, gone to a party at the caravan park that very night and determinedly cast off his virginity in such a joylessly transactional exercise that the best bit had been being able to tell Ash and Finn it had happened.

  Or all the other times he’d found himself standing in the sticky kitchen of yet another crusty holiday rental, shouting over the music at a girl he was barely interested in. Hoping she didn’t wander off though, because then Ash would laugh and Kieran would have no choice but to join Sean, who was inevitably standing awkward and alone in some corner, flushing red every time any girl even looked his way.

  It had all seemed so important at the time, Kieran thought as he stood on the beach now. Life and death.

  ‘Well,’ Kieran looked over at Ash. ‘Even if Liam is a bit of a dickhead, it doesn’t mean he did something to Bronte.’

  ‘No.’ Ash sighed. ‘And I’m not saying he did. But there’s always been something a bit off about him. Like the way he looks at Liv in the Surf and Turf when he thinks I’m not watching. Stuff he says to her. I dunno. Sean can’t see it. He still thinks of Liam as this messed-up little kid who’s struggling to make his way in the world, and whatever Liam is –’ Ash shook his head. ‘He’s not that.’

  A thin shaft of light broke over the sand. Across the beach and the back fence, Kieran could see Mia silhouetted in the doorway. She held a hand up to shield her eyes and was scanning the darkness for them. She didn’t step out, though, Kieran noticed. Even knowing they were there somewhere, she still wasn’t willing to be on that beach at night.

  ‘I’ll let you go, mate.’ Ash looked down at Trish Birch’s backpack. ‘Do you want me to take that?’

  ‘It’s all right. I’ll do something with it. You’ll tell Liv about it?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll have to. She won’t be happy though.’

  Kieran picked up the bag and weighed it in his hand. He remembered swimming after it, drawing in his breath as he dove down to chase it. It had been sinking fast. If he hadn’t caught it, would it have washed up on the sand a few days later?

  ‘What do you reckon about all this?’ He couldn’t read the writing on the bag anymore. ‘Do you reckon there’s any chance Trish might be right?’

  Ash ran a hand over his head. ‘God, who knows? I try not to get involved. Just help out Liv wherever I can. All I know is, that was a crazy day. A storm like that?’ He shrugged. ‘A lot of things happened that day that’ll never happen again.’

  Their eyes met this time and something Kieran couldn’t quite put his finger on passed between them. Then Ash looked at the house, and at Mia, who was still waiting.

  ‘All right. I’d better be off.’ Ash turned to leave. He looked out into the night ahead of him. ‘Christ, they actually should do something about this beach. You can barely see a bloody thing out there.’

  Kieran watched as Ash raised a hand and walked away. Within a few steps, he was gone.

  Chapter 22

  One of Kieran’s favourite things about living in Sydney was no longer needing a cold-water wetsuit. He stood among the racks of hire equipment in Sean’s shed at the marina, fighting his way into the thick material, and wondered how he had ever used to find this easy.

  Verity had slipped into her borrowed suit with no trouble and her voice now floated in from outside the shed, where she was standing in the sun talking to George Barlin.

  ‘Is it okay if he comes too?’ Sean had asked when Kieran had called to say they would like to see the wreck after all. ‘He’s been hoping to go down for weeks.’

  ‘No worries. He’s certified, is he?’ Kieran wasn’t sure why he was surprised.

  ‘For around the outside, yeah. We’d all better stick to that anyway. I’m still not sure if anyone’s going in this year.’ Sean had paused. ‘And listen, Liam’ll be there as well.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘He’s part of the business. He needs to be ready when the Norwegians arrive.’

  ‘I didn’t say anything, mate,’ Kieran said. ‘It’s your decision who you take down.’

  ‘Yeah, sorry.’ Sean had sighed. ‘He needs something to keep him busy. Julian reckons he can’t have him back in the Surf and Turf for a while. And Liam said something the other day that made me think people are giving him a hard time when he’s out. He says they’re not but now he just sits at home all day with his mum.’

  Kieran had duly expected Liam to be subdued, but had still been taken aback when they’d approached the Nautilus Blue that morning. Liam’s head hung down and his movements were over-thought and slow. He’d barely glanced up from loading the oxygen tanks as they walked over and even then his eyes had such a faraway look that Kieran had immediately decided to double-check every piece of equipment Liam handed them.

 
; George Barlin, at least, was in good spirits.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for this all summer,’ Kieran could hear him saying to Verity now. ‘I’ve wanted to go down to the wreck for years, but I wasn’t qualified for the depth.’

  ‘I haven’t been down there in a good while,’ Verity said.

  ‘How long?’

  ‘I don’t know. Long enough that if the certification could expire, it would have. I’ve done a lot of shallower dives, though. My husband used to really enjoy it too. Have you been out to the Mary Minerva site at all?’

  ‘On a boat? No, but I’ve seen it from land. Went up to the lookout to see The Survivors. Interesting piece of art.’

  ‘It is. It looks different from the water. Brian and I used to sail out to that spot about once a year –’

  Kieran stopped, one arm in his wetsuit, listening. He was a little surprised. He hadn’t known that.

  ‘Well, actually, we used to go exactly once a year,’ Verity was saying. ‘For the anniversary of our older son’s death. He drowned, sadly.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry,’ George said. ‘Finn, right? It was tragic.’

  ‘Yes.’ Verity sounded a little surprised that George knew his name. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I was here myself that summer, running a writing course. I’ve never seen anything like that storm in my life,’ George said. ‘I’ve been reading around it a bit at the library since I got back. Having a look at the old photos and things. But I remember it myself. It was terrible. Very difficult if you’re caught out on the water in that. Liam’s father was on the same boat, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Toby.’ Verity’s voice was so soft Kieran had to strain to hear. ‘They weren’t caught out on the water, though. They were responding to an emergency call for Kieran.’

  ‘That’s what they were doing?’ George’s words were also close to inaudible. ‘I knew Kieran had an accident but I hadn’t realised the two were connected.’

  ‘Yeah. Finn and Toby went out on the boat to try to save him.’

  ‘Oh.’ George paused. ‘But, sorry Verity, I thought –’