Survivor

by Tom Hoyle

  ‘Well done, boys,’ said Jason as he passed.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Nick. ‘We can burn down Australia. I’m the fire-making king.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Jason, pointing to steadily rising smoke a few hundred yards away. ‘That’s Al and Lee using just a thin reed and fireboard.’

  As a pair, they were easily the best: Alastair was great at making Lee’s ideas work.

  The second activity was Communication: it was basically about attracting the attention of a passing aeroplane. Alastair and Lee again dominated, effectively taking over from Toby and Jason, explaining how light flashed from mirrors or a radio with nothing more than static could be used to send messages in Morse code.

  ‘But what if you don’t have a mirror or a radio?’ said Luke.

  ‘Then we’d use my torch,’ said Alastair. ‘It’s more important to have a torch than a knife.’

  ‘And we’d transmit in Morse like this . . .’ Lee clapped his hands together in a strange pattern.

  ‘That could mean anything,’ said Luke, laughing, wide-eyed.

  Lee clapped again, an even more complicated rhythm, and longer this time.

  ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ asked Luke, palms out, head on one side.

  Lee looked pale with annoyance. ‘It’s what will happen to you if you question me again.’

  I had no idea what Lee had Morsed, of course, or whether he was bluffing. I hated all this alpha-male stuff, which Lee was part of, in his own way.

  Jason interrupted to say that everyone would have locator beacons in any case, but even they weren’t really needed because of the satellite phones. ‘But if anyone is stupid enough to wander off and finds a handy mirror, using it to reflect the sun into the eyes of a passing pilot would be a really clever idea.’

  The third activity was all about Australian animals. The first part of this was spent telling us that there really wasn’t much to worry about: that bees and horses killed more people in Australia than anything else. Toby said that almost no one dies from spider, shark, snake or croc bites – because people are careful and anti-venom has been developed for creatures like the funnel-web spider. But Oz still had some of the world’s most venomous and aggressive animals. ‘Like Jason,’ he joked.

  We spent a while talking about octopuses and jellyfish, especially the box jellyfish, lethal, but fortunately out of season in July. Then it was snakes and spiders, the worst of which could kill within minutes. There were highly poisonous ones nearby: we just had to treat everything as if it was deadly, and stay well away. That’s why we weren’t shown many pictures – everything was dangerous.

  And that was the problem with the talk in the light of what happened later. Being croc-safe was all about avoiding the creature, especially by staying out of certain parts of certain rivers; being snake-safe was all about making lots of noise and ‘giving it a wide berth’. We weren’t told what to do when you do come face to face with the things; we weren’t told how to treat a victim of a bite from one. (I don’t blame Toby – he was just doing what he had been told.)

  The final activity before lunch was called Herbology. I didn’t mention that I immediately recognized a Harry Potter reference, but Luke went crazy, jumping around and asking whether Pomona Sprout was going to teach us. There was general groaning about Harry Potter and comments about how it was boring. Luke didn’t care, though, and started comparing everyone to Harry Potter characters: Reg was Hagrid; I remember that Matt was Ron. That was about right. ‘Toby, you’re . . . Dumbledore,’ was met with general laughter because it was meant to be absurd, but I could see some weird similarities. Jason, with a finger pointed at him, was called ‘Snape’ (Jason did seem to have that combination of trying to be harsh and amusing at the same time).

  Then he turned to Peter. There was a little pause for effect. ‘And you’re Draco Malfoy.’

  Peter moved his head from side to side as if weighing it up, a smile on his face, but his eyes were unamused.

  Luke turned to me. ‘Georgey is a hero with everyone against him. He’s got to be Harry Potter.’

  The ‘everyone against him’ drained any satisfaction away from what was probably meant as a compliment.

  There was a moment of silence and I felt embarrassed.

  Then: ‘He’d rather be Harry Styles,’ said Matt, to laughter and my relief. Banter then restarted.

  ‘OMG,’ said Luke, trying to be as camp as possible. ‘I simply love Wand Erection.’

  That is how I remember Luke. An entertainer.

  Herbology turned out to be interesting. It was about the plants that could be used for medicine or other practical purposes. If Toby was right, there was hardly anything that couldn’t be healed by something somewhere in Australia.

  The session dissolved into questions about illnesses and what they could be cured with, and then into stupid questions about what other problems the herbs could deal with. Matt started it by asking about which herb could save you if you came into contact with a dingo. But that was funny because Matt had taken to calling a part of his body his ‘dingo’. It was the way that Matt said it, with a comical wild-eyed stare.

  ‘What can save you from a nuclear bomb?’ asked Peter.

  ‘What can save you from death by fatness?’ said Nick.

  ‘What can save you from a knife being plunged into here?’ asked Alastair, pointing at his side. He was wearing a T-shirt, but I knew, and perhaps the others knew, too, that he was pointing at the very spot where his scar was. I wondered what had happened to him.

  We were then warned by Toby and Jason about the plants that were dangerous: we had to be careful what we ate. We were told that there were a thousand plants in Australia that were toxic, and a hundred that could produce cyanide.

  ‘Look out for this fella in particular: the strychnine tree – looks good enough to eat, but is also known as poison nut.’ Toby showed us a picture, followed by another. ‘And this is called angel’s trumpets – but it’s bloody unheavenly: this one will make you confused before killing you. And this little thing, oleander, will finish you off even if you put it on the fire and inhale the smoke. Eating it – fatal. And especially dangerous for kids. And they’re the ones people in Sydney can find in their back garden.’

  Toby then reeled off a number of other poisonous plants, and Jason held up pictures.

  ‘Guys,’ said Jason. ‘The simple truth is that you shouldn’t put anything in your mouth that you don’t know everything about.’

  Peter and Nick smirked. ‘George and Matt, did you hear that?’ said Peter, to excessive laughter from Nick.

  Reg asked about our trip and what foods would be safe to eat.

  Toby listed common things that sounded similar to what grows in England before explaining that all food would be provided. ‘Foraging,’ he said, ‘is an important part of bushcraft, but this is a twenty-first-century trip. It’ll be three meals a day.’

  ‘Six meals in Reg’s case,’ said Nick. Peter laughed.

  Reg seemed not to hear. ‘Does any posh stuff grow out here, like caviar?’ he asked.

  Even I knew that caviar didn’t grow on trees.

  ‘Or spaghetti?’ The words came out before I had a chance to stop them. ‘Any spaghetti trees?’ They were intended to shield Reg rather than make fun of him.

  ‘What a thick shit,’ said Peter, ignoring me and turning on Reg. ‘You’re too poor to eat caviar, in any case. But, if you do, it comes from a fish. A fish that looks a bit like you, but not as ugly.’

  Nick’s laughter was over the top, gurgling like a drain.

  ‘Come on, Peter,’ said Toby. ‘That’s out of order, man.’

  ‘Yeah, come on, Pete,’ Jason added. ‘It’s not right to say that Reg looks uglier than a fish.’

  ‘I’m so very, very sorry,’ said Peter, his voice level and bland.

  ‘In any case,’ said Toby, ‘food doesn’t have to be fancy to be good.’

  This meant that the conversation drifted
unpleasantly on to whether or not money makes you a better person.

  Peter was really stupid about it all. ‘I would rather die than be poor,’ was one arrogant and irritating thing he spouted. ‘I bet you don’t get paid much,’ he also said, speaking to Toby, who somehow kept his cool, even though Jason laughed a little.

  Lee was almost as mad in the opposite direction, saying that rich people should be put in prison and have their possessions taken away by the government.

  Matt sat between the two. ‘Hey, man; hey, man,’ he said, looking one way and then the other. ‘It doesn’t matter how much money someone has, so long as he’s a dude.’ I agreed. But Matt’s charm, so effective on me and Reg, and perhaps Luke and Alastair, didn’t work at all on the others.

  A slightly bad feeling hung over lunch. I chatted to Toby in as friendly a way as possible, so did Matt: Toby must have been annoyed by what had been said. But he was so even-tempered nothing seemed to get to him.

  In the afternoon there were three more activities, but this time a man called Rob came in to take the sessions (he had been with the girls in the morning). It was hard to tell how old Rob was – his face was like a walnut from so much sun.

  The first lesson was tracking. Rob was so good at this I couldn’t believe it wasn’t a set-up. He showed us how to follow animal tracks by looking for spoor. We were all a bit sceptical about this, given that one broken twig looks the same as another, and testing the temperature of animal poo to tell how far away the creature is seems crazy. But he then asked for a volunteer, and Luke was told to run off through the thick bushes behind the house. We were spellbound as Rob tracked him down – it was like something out of Lord of the Rings.

  ‘I can’t believe you did that,’ squealed Luke as he was discovered curled up inside a bush.

  ‘You can run, but you can’t hide,’ said Jason.

  Peter was the only person who was any good at tracking, apart from Toby and Jason, who had done it a hundred times. It’s strange how sometimes a person has unexpected skills.

  Next, Rob did a session on rope-making. It was enough to leave most people bored, but Matt and I gabbled away while sorting out the twines and forgot about everyone else.

  Finally, Rob did a session on knife skills. This wasn’t a very successful session. The most significant thing was that Alastair refused to handle a knife; in fact, he pretty much refused to be within sight of one. It was a serious phobia.

  ‘But what about knives at the dinner table?’ asked Jason. ‘Are you scared by them?’

  ‘Different.’ Alastair turned quickly and walked off to the house.

  ‘What’s with him?’ asked Peter.

  ‘He was attacked on a London street about a year ago,’ said Jason. ‘Another troubled kid sent on this trip to get better.’

  Peter stretched and yawned. ‘Yeah. This trip doesn’t seem to attract normal people. Apart from me, of course.’

  I distinctly remember Lee’s comment: ‘Anyway, nothing wrong with knives. One of the best and most interesting ways to kill someone.’

  It was in the early evening that Luke fell ill. You all know that he died three days later, but this was when it all started. It was a sudden decline, but we had no idea, not the faintest clue, how serious it was.

  At about seven o’clock he complained of feeling really tired and dizzy, but still had his Luke-ish ways, trying to make the best of it. But he was shivering and said he felt sick. At eight o’clock he threw up on the beach and made a mess in his trousers. It was pretty bad. He then went to bed.

  Importantly, just after 9.30 p.m., he felt hungry and ate some soup.

  After that, probably fatally, he was encouraged to sip water as often as possible.

  I’m now fairly sure both the soup and the water were poisoned, but we all thought it was just a stomach bug or some sort of flu. To be honest, we wondered if Luke was just making a bit of a fuss over nothing.

  Yes, I was the one who took him the soup at 9.35 p.m. – I’ve explained below how I remember the time. I collected the bowl from Toby in the kitchen, carried it to the room and left it on the little table that had been put in his room. [I DID NOTHING ELSE. I didn’t add anything, not even a drop of water, and simply carried the soup directly into the room. I didn’t leave the soup anywhere else. It’s as simple as that.]

  I stayed for a few minutes and spoke briefly to Luke. He was holding his stomach and wincing, but that didn’t stop him apologizing a few times, which I took as being about the illness, because it was a bit of a nuisance. ‘If you feel better, you’re very welcome to come down on the rocks with me and Matt,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t think I’ll be doing that,’ Luke said quietly. ‘I’m sorry. I am sorry. Really I am.’

  It seemed logical that he should just sleep it off.

  ‘Make sure you drink plenty of water,’ I said. I wish I hadn’t, but it was what people always say to someone who is unwell. The thought of poisonous black bean or Castanospermum australe seeds being ground into water and on to food to infect it (supposing the police are right about how it was done) never entered my head.

  We were more interested in what was going on outside – at the time, Luke’s illness was a side-issue compared to the presence of Zara and Belle. On the first night we had been in the middle of the group, right next to the house; on the second night we were down on the beach, separated from the others; on this third night we went a little way round the bay and on to some rocks. When night came, the others were distant in a bubble of light by the house. We felt peaceful in the darkness, with nothing more than the torches on our phones to see by.

  What did we talk about? Everything and nothing. Some of it was serious and some of it was stupid. Matt was on the form of his life, and I did feel a tiny bit excluded when both girls were so wrapped up in his witty chat, staring at him when he spoke, but he had the same effect on me.

  You see, how could I possibly have been scheming about killing Luke, who I really liked, when I was enjoying the best part of a disastrous holiday?

  It was at 9.20 p.m. (I remember looking) by my digital watch when I offered to walk up to the house and get us some more food. Zara said that she would come with me, and we talked on the way about match-making Matt and Belle.

  Nick, Peter, Lee and Jason were sitting outside the door that led to the beach when we arrived and said we were after a bit more of the barbecued stuff.

  ‘I’ve just taken in what’s left,’ said Jason. ‘You’ll have to raid the kitchen.’

  ‘There’s a sausage waiting for you inside, Zara,’ said Peter.

  Nick spluttered, excessively, as always. He didn’t seem to mind being Peter’s follower.

  I was surprised that Lee joined in. ‘Have you been between a rock and a hard place?’

  Zara was really composed. She stopped, looked each one in the eye while they sat there gormlessly, and sweetly said: ‘Can we hurry up, George? I find it hard to keep my hands off you.’

  Their mouths popped open and shut like goldfish.

  ‘If you want to research, I suggest you look on the internet,’ she concluded.

  I could see that they all hated me for not having to say a word.

  We walked through to the kitchen where Toby and Andrea were clearing up and pouring some soup into a bowl for Luke.

  ‘I’ll drop that off with the plague victim,’ I offered.

  Toby therefore wrote the now notorious line in the medical report: George Fleet took soup mid-eve and chatted to Luke.

  Actually, I didn’t say much to Luke, and at the time I didn’t understand much of what he said to me. It was like we were having separate conversations, but I just thought it was the fever talking.

  I asked Luke how he felt.

  ‘I had to do it,’ he whispered.

  I said that I knew he would be fine.

  ‘I just didn’t want to be hit again,’ he said.

  I know I made a huge mistake – probably the biggest of the trip (and my life?). If only I�
��d been less worried about getting back to the beach with Zara and more worried about what Luke was talking about, I could have stopped everything in its tracks. But I didn’t imagine things had been going on that I was ignorant of. I didn’t know that Luke was a victim of both poison and serious intimidation.

  So I left, saying, ‘You’ll feel better in the morning. You’re just confused by the bug. Try to sleep.’

  I can be a selfish bastard sometimes and I feel really guilty about it.

  We were on the beach after that for about another ninety minutes. We had moved on to Spin the Bottle – it felt like a game we’d all left behind years ago, and that made it even more fun – before Andrea called out for the girls.

  As we were going, Zara stopped and looked me in the eye. ‘Thanks for a great evening.’

  As I walked away I thought of Jess.

  Inside, Luke was worse. His breathing wasn’t good and he threw up every now and again, just small amounts. We trooped in and out of the doorway to his room, wishing him well, imagining that amount of distance would protect us from infection, little knowing there was no virus to be caught.

  ‘You’ll be fine in the morning,’ Jason said. ‘If you’re not better, we’ll call the doc.’

  But Luke wasn’t better in the morning.

  [Here ends the ninth part of George’s statement]

  THE OTHER CHAPTER 9

  (SAID IN THE HOUR BEFORE):

  HIM

  No one feels sorry when a WORM dies.

  No one cries when a fly is SQUASHED. (No one normal.)

  Millions of people EAT dead animals. Including YOU.

  Admit it, not even YOU feel bad about swatting a wasp, and you think you’re all so holy and perfect, and a never-do-anything-wrong-in-a-million-years type of person.

  Why is it that everyone thinks that they’re the good guy and everyone else is wrong? Even little people like you think like that. It’s pathetic.

  Luke should have realized what it meant to be a pupil. A PUPIL takes orders from his MASTER. He should worship his master, especially if his master is a GENIUS.