by J. F. Penn
Ben lay with his eyes closed in the shallow water, a deep cut on his head oozing blood that swirled in the bubbles of the surf. Lucy went to him and pulled him into a sitting position.
"Come on, Ben," she said in desperation. "I need you. We have to move."
He groaned and opened his eyes slightly, but she knew he needed time to recover.
Rangi stumbled to his feet, standing in front of Ben and Lucy as the men approached. There were five of them, each with eyes wide and bloodshot.
The biggest hunter hefted a tire iron in his hands. Sitona held a baseball bat, while yet another man grabbed the metal wrench from the sand, where it had fallen from the truck. Their eyes narrowed as they studied their prey.
Rangi spread his arms wide, standing tall, his bulk a formidable barrier.
"You wanna play, monkey man," the big hunter sneered. "Won't take long." His eyes darted to Lucy and he licked his lips at the wet clothes that clung to her body. "Then we'll have some real fun."
Rangi charged, his speed surprising. His thick arm caught the hunter around his neck and clotheslined him to the sand. Rangi roared as he hit the feral with full force.
The other men closed in, swinging their bats and weapons. There were four of them now.
"No!" Lucy cried out as her friend was overwhelmed by the force of them.
He broke out of their attack, shouting curses as he swung at the men. A deep warrior cry broke from his chest, a primal sound that reverberated through Lucy's body and made the hair on her arms stand on end.
Two of the feral men went down from his powerful blows, his teeth bared as he struck at their flesh.
Lucy crouched under the shadow of the Jeep. It was as if she saw an ancient tribal battle before her. Rangi was a great warrior sent to protect them, a man of legend, a man of whom tales would be told. But his face was covered in blood, and she wanted to weep as he tired.
She heard the words of Aroha, his grandmother, in her head. This was Rangi's fate. He was sent for this, and he met it willingly.
Sitona broke through and landed a powerful blow to the back of Rangi's head.
The big man fell to his knees, his shoulders bent as he struggled to shake off the pain. His eyes glazed over. He looked to Lucy, his face stricken, his dark eyes desolate at his failure to protect them.
Sitona moved to the side, raising the tire iron, its wicked hook end about to crash down into Rangi's skull.
Another man stabbed a knife towards the big Maori's neck.
Lucy saw it happen in slow motion and she started running to her friend, to the man who had saved her sister.
"Rangi," she screamed, her feet flashing across the shining sand, trying desperately to get to him, to stop the men.
Sitona looked up and laughed, swinging the tire iron down as the hunter drove the knife into Rangi's neck. There was a crunch of metal against bone and Rangi fell face down, his blood soaking the golden sand.
Lucy screamed, wailing to the sky as she reached her friend. She sank down to her knees and grasped the pendant around her neck, her rage exploding at the men who circled her now, their faces fixed on her body with hungry eyes.
She called on Papatuanuku, goddess of the earth, whose flesh was stone and rock and sand and mud.
Goddess of this land, of this Aotearoa.
The beach rippled around the men, rising up like a wave. Lucy grabbed fistfuls of the bloody sand and threw it in the air as she screamed her rage.
Sitona and the hunters turned in horror as the sand swirled about them, blinding them, slicing at their flesh.
They tried to run back to the Jeep, but the bloody sand opened up in a huge maw with ragged teeth of shell and stone. It swallowed them whole, their screams smothered as it covered their bodies and they were gone.
In a moment, all was quiet.
Seagulls called overhead and the surf swooshed on the sand. The dawn was breaking. But on the horizon, a line of black rose, the beginnings of a storm across the sea.
Lucy sobbed as she rolled Rangi over and pulled his bloody head onto her lap. She stroked his face. He still had a faint pulse, but his head wound was deep.
"Rangi," she whispered.
His eyes fluttered open. They were bloodshot and pained, but Lucy saw a glimmer of the man still inside.
"You and Ben must go," he whispered. "Te Rerenga Wairua." He coughed, his throat gurgling with blood. "My spirit will race you there."
His eyes closed and he breathed for the last time. Lucy wept as she rocked him in her arms. She felt his spirit lighten and go back to join his ancestors.
Rangi Anahera was gone.
"I'll come back for you," Lucy whispered. "I'll make sure it's the best tangi your marae has ever seen."
A shadow fell across her and Lucy shivered, suddenly aware of the cold. She looked up to see clouds gathering above, whirling together in a vortex. She had seen this before, at the Strait crossing. Tawhirimatea, the god of storms, was no friend of theirs.
There were things up there in the clouds, too, wheeling and diving in the silver lightning that sparked across the black. Whatever they were, they were huge.
Lucy got to her feet as rain began to fall, drops so big they dented the sand. She ran back to the overturned Jeep. Ben was still woozy, but he was able to stand with Lucy's help.
"What happened?" he asked. "Rangi?"
"He's gone," Lucy said, her voice steel-hard now. "And we have to finish this."
They ran together for the feral men's Jeep as the rain lashed the beach and whipped the waves up into peaks. The wind howled as it buffeted them, the screams of the damned in the high-pitched noise. Ben stumbled, but Lucy pulled him onwards.
The Jeep was half-buried in sand, the engine covered in the stuff from where it had swallowed the feral men. There was no way it would start, even if they could dig it out.
The rain hammered at them now, soaking them both to the bone. The cold wind blew and they shivered uncontrollably. But the cold cleared Ben's head and he grabbed Lucy's hand, pulling her through the clinging sand towards the dunes. At least they could shelter there.
A cry broke the air, a shriek that seemed to split the sky.
Ben turned at the noise, looking up in horror as a gigantic bird dive-bombed them, its beak spear-sharp.
He pushed Lucy to the sand and dove down himself as the beak pierced the air where they had stood moments before. The bird swooped away and up again, preparing for another pass.
It cried into the storm, calling for its flock.
Ben rolled onto his back to look up, shielding his eyes against the rain as he focused on the giant birds of prey wheeling above.
They had alternating feathers as black as pitch and red as blood, tinged with the white of bone along the ends. Their wingspan stretched a full two meters across.
"Hokioi," Ben whispered, his heart pounding as he realized what they were.
Birds of myth belonging to the god of the winds, their presence a warning of war. Unearthly creatures set on stopping them from reaching Cape Reinga. Their beaks could pierce skin and bone and tear their limbs apart, before casting their bloody corpses upon the water.
But there was nowhere to go.
Ninety Mile Beach was a wilderness of sand and ocean. It would end here. They had failed.
The birds began to wheel together, the flock of giants beginning a pattern in the sky that seemed to feed off the lightning that sparked between them.
Then, with a great cry, they turned and pulled their wings in, dropping from the sky as one to dive-bomb the two humans who lay exposed on the ground beneath.
31
As the birds dove, hoofbeats pounded the ground, thudding through Ben.
He turned his head and there, from the grassy dunes, two wild horses galloped towards them. Their tawny manes flew in the wind, their hooves flying across the sand, their eyes narrowed against the stinging rain.
"Creatures of the land," Lucy whispered. "From Papatuanuku."
T
he horses galloped in circles around Ben and Lucy, standing between the humans and the birds. The giant hokioi screeched as they descended but they veered at the last minute, winging away from the horses, unable to wound creatures sent by the goddess.
The birds flew back into the stormy sky, wheeling overhead, beady eyes fixed on the humans below. Ben watched them for a minute, wary of standing and attracting attention, but it seemed they would remain high up – at least for now.
The clouds grew thicker above them, shades of bruised purple slashed with silver forked lightning. Out to sea, a thick bank of cloud rolled towards them. Even from this far out, Ben could see shapes moving within it.
The horses nickered and nuzzled at Ben, pawing the sand as if eager to move on.
"They'll take us to the cape," Ben said, sure that they could make it. The call of the north was almost desperate inside him now, and he knew Lucy felt it too. "We can still get there."
Lucy leaned close to one horse, gathering a handful of its mane.
"Shh, it's alright," she whispered to it, stroking its flank. Then she turned to Ben. "Give me a boost."
Ben cupped his hand and she stepped up, mounting the horse to sit bareback. He looked up at her as the wind blew her blonde hair about her face. Against the darkening black of the sky, she was a golden statue, a representation of the goddess. He caught a glimpse of the pendant about her neck, a twin to his own shard of power. Together they would end this, or at least they would see the end of the country together.
A roll of thunder crashed over the sea, vibrating through the air. The horses neighed, pawing the sand with hooves raised. They needed to go.
Ben mounted the other horse, tugging its mane until it turned so they pointed north. He looked over at Lucy and she smiled. There was a wildness in her that matched his own. They were creatures of the land as much as the horses. They were embodied spirits, here to live and die in violence. If the land were to sink into the sea today, they would at least have seen some great adventures.
Lucy kicked her heels, and her horse set off up the beach as she bent low to its mane. Her delighted laughter rang out and Ben spurred his own mount on after her.
They raced down the beach, flying over the sand. Ben felt the heat of the horse beneath him, felt his own spirit soar, entwined with the creature whose hooves beat the earth as they dashed north. There was a moment when exhilaration overtook Ben and he tipped his head up to the sky. Rain lashed down on his face, and he understood how it was all linked together. How the balance had shifted, because the people had lost touch with the land and the creatures on it.
But in this moment, they were one again.
He let go of striving, let go of his grief for Grandfather, for Gina, for Aotearoa. The gods would survive this, the earth would renew itself, even if humans were gone. Ben felt for the shard around his neck and sent out a prayer to the Risen Gods.
Forgive us.
Forgive me.
As if connected to his energy, the horse surged forward, hooves flashing beneath them. For a moment, Ben rode neck and neck with Lucy, and he reached out his hand. She looked over and reached for him in return. Their fingers touched, their eyes met, and the four creatures of the earth rode hard for the end of Ninety Mile Beach and onwards towards Cape Reinga.
Behind them, the storm gathered strength.
Finally, they reached the end of the road at Cape Reinga, known to the Maori as Te Rerenga Wairua, the leaping-off place where the spirits enter the underworld. The horses came to a halt in front of the deserted lighthouse. Their heads drooped with exhaustion and their flanks dripped from sweat and rain.
Lucy dismounted and leaned into her horse's neck, her forehead against him.
"Thank you," she whispered.
The horse whinnied gently and then stepped away from her. It nodded its head and then turned away, trotting south again. Ben came to stand next to her as his horse followed, and soon they were left alone at the tip of Aotearoa.
They stood on the clifftop looking north. There was a further short spit of land and then the ocean stretched into the distance, the next stop Noumea and the Pacific Islands.
The rain lashed down, but they could still see the boiling of the ocean where the Tasman Sea met the Pacific, two powerful streams meeting here. The energy from the waves rolled off the sea and white waters lashed the rocky shoreline. Lucy felt a tug towards the deep.
"We need to go further," she said, reaching for Ben's hand. "Out there."
"It's crazy," Ben said, shaking his head, but she knew he understood. Something called to them out there.
They walked away from the paved area, climbed outside the safety barriers, and clambered over the rocks towards the very end of the spit.
The storm was almost upon them now. The crash of lightning followed almost immediately by the roll of thunder vibrated through Lucy's chest – the anger of the gods that they would even dare try and prevent the end of this land.
Lucy slipped on a rock and fell hard to her knees, her hand scraping down a sharp rock as she tried to stop herself falling. Blood welled quickly and tears sprang to her eyes. She shivered under the onslaught of the rain. As she looked out at the boiling sea, Lucy suddenly felt desolate and empty. What were they even doing here?
Ben scrambled back up to help her.
"Are you alright?" he said.
"Crazy question." Lucy couldn't help but smile through her tears. "I don't think any of this is alright. Perhaps we're deluded in thinking that we can even stop this. That we can make a difference."
Ben pulled her into his arms and she relished his warmth. The rain slammed into them both, huddled on the rocks at the end of the country, perhaps at the end of it all.
"We're almost there," he whispered. "You and me. We've been through so much. We've lost so much. But we're together now, and I believe we're meant to be here."
He pulled away slightly, looking down into her eyes. In his dark gaze, Lucy could see that he was a different man now. Different from the Ben she had sailed with not so long ago. This man knew what lay beyond the physical realm. This man would fight the Risen Gods for his land.
For their land.
And she would fight with him.
"Together, then," she said, and he nodded.
Lucy pushed herself up from the rocks, forced away the pain in her bloody hand, ignored the icy wind that buffeted them. Ben led the way and they carefully climbed between the rocks to the very end of the cape.
There, lashed to a rock, was a wooden waka – a canoe with two paddles inside.
For a moment, Ben couldn't believe what he was seeing – although why he doubted after everything else that had happened in the last days, he wasn't sure. The waka was beautiful, carved from a single totara tree trunk and decorated with the faces of warriors and the stories of the gods, the motifs of his people. Legends told of the great waka that had come from Hawaiki, the mythical homeland.
The craft could take them further. He looked out at the churning surf and the clash of the two oceans. If they could make it out that far, of course.
A gigantic wave broke over the rocks. It soaked Ben and Lucy and rocked the waka back against the craggy promontory. Ben clawed his way to it, laying a hand upon the wood. He felt a surge of power up his arm, jolting him and making his heart pound. The wood was alive with the power of the trees, of Tane Mahuta, of Papatuanuku. It was of the earth, and the waters would part for it.
Another wave crashed over them, and Ben lost his grip on the waka. The sense of power disappeared. They would be safe in the boat, but would they be able to stay in it? He turned to Lucy. She clung to the side of the waka, face pale with cold, her hands bloody, but her blue eyes were steel as she looked at him. She nodded.
It was time.
Together, they hauled the waka to the very edge of the ocean and stood in the face of the storm, waiting for a break in the waves.
Ben saw their chance and they pushed the waka forward into the surf. Lucy jumped
in the front and paddled hard. Ben leapt in behind her. The stern crunched against the rocks and for a moment he thought they would be tipped out, rolled under the crashing waves. Then they surged out, surfing on the back of a reflected wave into the deep.
Ben whooped as they crested. For a moment, they could see the wide ocean before them. Lucy turned and laughed, her eyes bright, the momentary triumph overtaking them both.
Then her eyes widened as she looked up and past Ben.
"Oh no." He saw her mouth shape the words, but the sound was lost on the wind.
Ben turned, and saw their end in the approaching storm.
32
Black clouds twisted into a tornado of lightning and whirling smoke, as if the sky itself burned. Inside, creatures of fire and wind clawed towards them, talons of flame and soot reaching down towards the tiny waka on the waves that boiled beneath them.
Lucy smelled burning flesh on the air. In the clouds, she saw a vision of the great cities of New Zealand buried under the flow of red-hot lava as the gods took their fill of human sacrifice. Screams of the tortured and dying rang through the air, and she saw her parents die again and again in the destruction. Amber writhed in pain as the spirits took what was left of her.
"No," Lucy howled. She cowered and blocked her ears, closing her eyes against the horror.
Then Ben was there. His arms around her. His mouth close to her ear.
"It's not real," he said, squeezing her tight. "They want to stop us. But I need you to paddle, Lucy. We need to get away from the rocks or we will die here."
He shook her until she opened her eyes. Lucy focused on his strong gaze, trying to block out the gathering storm above.
"For Rangi," Ben said. "For Amber."
Lucy felt a surge of resolve and nodded. Rangi wouldn't give up. He would fight to the end. And she had to keep going for Amber's sake. It was her sister's only chance.