As far as he could see in the darkness the rock island was about fifty yards long, and hollowed out in the centre by the constant wear of time and weather. Once in the rough crater, the sounds of the sea were muffled, and as the moon bathed their refuge in pale light, they made Felton comfortable on a flat piece of ground and gave him some more of the precious morphia.
Rolfe sat wearily on his haunches and looked across at the girl. Her clinging rags had fallen practically to her waist, and her skin gleamed in the light like pale gold.
Rolfe jerked off his shirt, feeling the cool air on his sweating body. “Here,” he called softly, “slip this on. It’s better than nothing!”
She took it hesitantly and moved away to the edge of the crater. Chao was already lying down, his eyes closed, and as Rolfe lay back gingerly on the hard surface, he caught a brief glimpse of the pale, shimmering figure, poised like a statue against the moon, before she pulled the shirt over her head.
She crossed shyly to his side, the remains of her dress in her hand. “This will do for bandages,” she said. “Thank you for giving me the shirt,” she added gravely.
They stared at each other in silence, and Rolfe was moved beyond words; He patted the rock beside him. “You’d better stay close.” His voice was suddenly husky. “You must try and keep warm!”
She dropped to his side and curled into the crook of his arm. As the warmth of her supple body seeped into him, and she slowly began to relax, Rolfe forgot the danger and the threat of the dawn. He felt a new inner warmth of contentment and desire.
7
ROLFE AWOKE FROM his exhausted sleep, his eyes and his senses groping for an explanation to his surroundings. For some moments the painful stiffness in his limbs made him lie quietly, staring up at the clear blue morning sky, which rose above the rocks around him like a distant sea. He stared blankly at the ground beside him, the memories of Judith and the previous night flooding back, and he twisted his head in the direction of the voices, which he now realized had awakened him.
Chao and the girl squatted by Felton’s side, readjusting the makeshift bandages and trying to soothe away the fierce, agonized mutterings which issued from his dry lips.
Rolfe stood up, feeling guilty that he should have slept while the others were occupied with this new problem. Judith glanced up at him and smiled brightly, her even teeth white against her brown face. As she rose from the ground, Rolfe saw that she had pulled the tails of his shirt down between her legs and knotted the ends together to form a shapeless khaki smock. He smiled tenderly, remembering the brief vision of her curved beauty which he had witnessed on the edge of their crater.
As he moved to join them, every muscle and bone in Rolfe’s body protested in unison, and he grimaced as he glanced down at his bare skin. Apart from the red marks left by the rocks on which he had slept, there were the angry bruises where the rifle butts had beaten him to submission at the hospital.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” Judith talked quietly, her small hands resting on her hips. “We need you too much to have you collapsing on us!”
Rolfe grinned, feeling his parched lips crack with the effort. It was strange indeed that he had not thought of drink since that first visit to the hospital, when Felton had eyed him with pitying contempt. And now the doctor, shrunken and pale, lay helpless in the dust at his feet, and he was thinking of a drink of a different nature. He ran his tongue round his mouth and stared carefully about their hiding-place. The dust-dry rock bowl in the centre of the tiny island was devoid of shelter, and apart from a few loose pieces of stone, and age-old piles of seagull droppings, was completely bare. As he walked to the lip of the high cliff the sea glinted up mockingly, and a few of the hunting gulls rose screaming from the surface as his distorted shadow fell across them.
Santu shimmered sleepily in the distance, the reds and greens of its contrasting cliffs and trees giving a lush and tempting picture, which belied the slaughter and terror on the other side of the island.
He frowned and wished he had a watch. It was very early in the morning, and the warm breath which fanned across his naked back was only a gentle threat of the heat and discomfort which would soon be upon them.
He stared out across the flat, inviting sea, to the south, wondering where the Wagtail would be at this moment, and remembering the new danger threatened by the possible approach of a Chinese warship.
As if reading his thoughts, Judith moved closer to him, her shining hair barely reaching to his shoulder. “We must make some shelter for Brian,” she said gravely. “He is asking for a drink already, and he will be in agony when the sun reaches him!” There was a great depth of sadness in her voice, but her tone was steady, and as Rolfe looked at her, she smiled up at him, her eyes clear and bright.
Rolfe nodded slowly, thinking how small and perfect she looked, and the torn, flapping shirt was unable to hide her proud figure. Apart from the shirt, she owned nothing, and as he forced himself to consider the problem of making a shelter, he realized that he, too, had nothing but his trousers, his battered shoes, and a few pieces of boat’s gear to help them through their ordeal. He grinned ruefully, “We don’t seem to be very well equipped, do we?”
She shrugged, the movement sending a fresh pang across Rolfe’s heart. “We must do what we can!” she answered simply.
Rolfe and Chao began to gather the loose pieces of worn stone, and in the deepest corner of the crater they laboriously erected a wall. While they were grunting and panting across the crater with their finds, they all noticed that the rock floor was growing steadily warmer, like a giant hot-plate, and before they were half finished, Rolfe was running with sweat.
Judith carefully padded out the lifejackets into a bed, and when they had finished, Rolfe knelt down beside Felton, waiting until the pinched face was turned wearily towards him.
“We’re going to move you, Brian. D’you think you can manage to put up with it?”
Felton smiled crookedly. “Why bother? I’m finished!”
“Once we can get you away from here—” began Rolfe, but a claw-like hand gripped his wrist with sudden force.
“Let’s not kid ourselves! You seem to forget, I’m the doctor! I know what has happened!” His head fell back and he stared unblinkingly at the brightening sky. “Finished!” he groaned again.
They lifted him tenderly, expecting him to cry out, as his loose, seemingly disconnected legs jerked with their combined efforts. But Rolfe’s heart sank as they lowered Felton into the shelter, he had seen that air of resigned defeat before, that disregard of pain on the faces of other dying men. He strode desperately round the crater, leaving the others to make the man comfortable.
How had it all happened? He racked his brains, but only succeeded in obtaining a jumbled mass of pictures and events. When he had staggered aboard the gunboat to assume command, his will and energy sapped with self-pity, he could never have dreamed such a transformation possible.
The evacuation had nearly ended in slaughter and he had deserted his ship. He knew that if he turned his head he would see the reason for his actions, as she knelt watchfully over her brother, but try as he might, he could not see how the future would permit his dreams to mature to a reality.
He suddenly noticed, for the first time, a faint pall of black smoke hanging thinly across the hills of the distant island. He wondered if the battle still raged, and if the General had been beaten. The scene was so beautiful that these cruel facts hardly seemed possible.
Chao leaned across the rocks, his body clad only in a small loin cloth. “Think I go down and try a bit of fishing!” he said thoughtfully, and Rolfe cursed himself for thinking of his own worries.
“What’ll you use?”
Chao laid out his crude line and hook. A piece of gut from the First-Aid box, used normally for stitching wounds, and a bent safety pin.
“Good Lord!” Rolfe breathed admiringly. “But be careful how you go. Keep to the other side of the rock, away from Santu, and if I shou
t to you, keep down out of sight!”
The boy grinned, his dark eyes slanting against the sun. Then, with one of his quick leaps, he lowered himself nimbly down the rope, which Rolfe pulled up, and settled down to keep watch, conscious of the growing pain of his thirst.
A warm hand slid under his arm. “Don’t look so worried, Justin! What are you thinking about?”
He grinned, startled. “You mostly! I keep thinking what a mess I’ve made of things!”
Her eyes widened. “Nonsense! If it wasn’t for you, things would have been very different. Mr. Laker would have bamboozled you into delaying the evacuation, and then they’d all have been caught!” She lowered her gaze. “And anyway, we might not have been alone together, ever!”
He gingerly slid his arm about her slim shoulders and together they stared out to sea.
“A lot of things are clearer to me now,” he said suddenly. “I couldn’t understand at the time why Major Ling allowed your brother to stay in Santu, when everyone knew his views about the General, and other things. But, of course, Ling realized that Brian was doing his own work for him by spreading discontent against the General’s rule, and he could carry on with his deception in safety until he thought fit. Until yesterday, in fact.” He squeezed her gently as she stiffened. “But it’s over now or at least that part of it!”
“What are our chances Justin?”
“We have to make it!” He spoke harshly, to convince himself. “I must get to my ship before anything else happens!”
She snuggled against him and his skin tingled as her hair floated across his shoulder. “You will be a captain again! And I will just be in the way!” But at that moment they both knew there was something strong and exciting growing between them, something which the outside world could not offer, or destroy.
“I might let you cook for me,” he grinned. “I might even let—” He jumped up without finishing, his head cocked on one side. “Listen!”
They stared at each other, their eyes mirroring their doubts, and then as the low-pitched buzzing mounted to a throb, Rolfe shouted, “Chao! Keep out of sight! There’s a plane of some sort!”
He saw the boy lower himself into the water, his head against the rock shelf, and then gripping Judith’s hand, he ran to the shelter, pulling the first-aid box against the uneven wall.
“Keep here with Brian,” he breathed, listening to the throb which vibrated noisily around the crater. “I’m just going to have a look!”
He slid cautiously up to the edge of the cliff, blinking in the growing glare. At first he could only see the sea and the green of Santu, but as he watched, he saw a black, ungainly shape hovering and darting, dipping and turning, just above the land, like a giant dragonfly. A helicopter, he thought, the implication twisting in his mind. They were still searching for them with that same cold determination which seemed to motivate all their actions.
The sun glinted on the Perspex front of the aircraft, as it gained height, its long blades blurred with power. For a while it remained motionless, as if the pilot was undecided, then with a sudden haste it swooped lazily towards the lonely pinnacle of rocks.
Rolfe ducked back to the shelter, his face grim. Carefully he checked the rifle. Only three shots left. He bit his lip, as he lowered himself on to his elbows, and cradled the weapon against his cheek. He watched the lip of the crater, black against the sky, and listened to the growing roar of the engine.
How low will it be? What can they see from up there?
He jerked as she touched his back. “If they come here, Justin,” her voice trembled, “don’t let them take me! Promise me you’ll kill me first!”
The words struck a chill through him, and he met her gaze steadily. “No one will take you from me now!”
The roaring grew to a deafening intensity, and without warning the bulbous front of the helicopter rose slowly over the edge of the crater like the hideous head of some forgotten monster. Overhead the blades slashed at the air, churning up the dust around them in a thick yellow cloud, until Rolfe was forced to close his eyes and pull the girl’s face against his side for protection. The sun vanished, as a great black shadow hovered over them, and when Rolfe squinted up through the flying grit and sand, he saw the two helmeted figures crouching behind their Perspex screen, barely twenty feet away. A fresh cloud was stirred up by the blades, and Rolfe’s throat was filled with dust, until he began to cough, helpless, and gasping for air.
It was the dust which saved them, for as they lay together against Felton’s covered body, they heard the engine’s note rise with sudden power, and with a graceless leap, the helicopter left the crater and glided back towards Santu, leapfrogging with its shadow across the ruffled water.
Rolfe pulled Judith closer and with his grubby handkerchief, began to wipe the dust from her face. Then her slender arms were pressing the back of his neck and he felt her warm mouth against his, in a breathless, sobbing kiss. They clung together without speaking, until Chao called shrilly from below, “I have fish! You ready up there?”
They smiled secretly at each other, and Rolfe went for the rope.
* * * * *
As the sun rose higher above the Eastern sea, and the deep water shed its cloak of mysterious blue, and glittered and shimmered in a sheet of pale green glass, the last cool breath left by the night was crushed and vanquished, until even the fish swam deep to avoid the scorching rays.
A few gulls, hardier and more greedy than the others, still glided hopefully after the gunboat Wagtail, and whenever anything appeared in the creamy wake, which stretched across the sea in a white line, they dived, screaming, to investigate its possibilities.
Apart from the lookouts and a few of the duty hands, the decks were deserted, for without the protection of the awnings the bare, unsheltered spaces were made heat-traps under the dazzling glare. The engines throbbed placidly, and the bows of the ship hardly tilted over the gentle swell which bubbled against the stem.
Lieutenant Fallow studied the chart carefully, and with the pencil gripped in his ungainly fingers, he marked the estimated position of the ship on the straight line of their course. He half listened to the toneless chant of two Chinese seamen as they daubed grey paint along the scarred plating of the abandoned wireless room, and was thankful that he, at least, was in the comparative shade of the chart room.
He tried again to visualize what would happen when night eventually came, and he would have the task of searching for the Captain. It still seemed strange to be left in charge of the ship, yet stranger still, it had become almost a relief. By attending to his new duties he had been able to keep away from the questions and arguments of his passengers, and Vincent, apart from his spells of duty on the bridge, had become almost a stranger.
He had seen him occasionally, pacing around the main deck, as if he was also avoiding contact with the others, although from his strained face it appeared that his were different reasons. Fallow groped for his handkerchief, already sodden and limp. It was amazing that such things could happen, and he wondered gloomily what the Admiral would think when he read the reports.
The injured man, Edgar Lane, was comfortable enough, physically, but nothing Fallow, or anyone else could do, would make him talk, or take an interest in his condition. His companion in the sick bay, the Chinese seaman wounded in the brief encounter with the Communists, was all smiles, and lay back proudly in his comfortable bunk, relishing in the visits of his comrades. Fallow shook his head, putting the most gnawing worry to the back of his mind.
He kept thinking about Rolfe and torturing himself by gauging his chances of survival. Pretty slim, he decided. Then there was the steward, Chao, who had disappeared overboard without a trace. There was more to that than met the eye! He peered round the door to ensure that the helmsman was attending to his duties. Tempting fate, that’s what it is, he thought vaguely.
A shadow fell across the deck, and Fallow looked up irritably. Vincent stood uncertainly in the doorway, his eyes hot and tired.
<
br /> “Well?” Fallow forced himself to consider the reasons for Vincent’s visit.
“It’s about tonight.” Vincent seemed to be groping for his words, in a manner quite foreign to him. “Are we really going back to that damned place?”
“You know we are!” So that’s what was biting him. He’s more windy than I guessed! And so am I, he thought bitterly.
“Well, I don’t think it’s right!” Vincent’s eyes blazed with sudden anger. “He’ll be dead by now, and in any case, it’s his own fault! I—I mean, it’d be hazarding the ship to go back there!” The words poured out in a wild torrent. “He’s left the ship to you, and it’s your duty to get us, I mean these people, back to Hong Kong!”
Fallow listened uneasily, he had already considered that possibility, and although Rolfe was, in effect, still engaged in an evacuation of sorts, he had ordered Fallow to consider the ship first, in his absence. He clamped his jaws together vehemently. “What the ’ell are you sayin’, man? D’you want me to leave the skipper to bloody well rot?” He thrust his purple nose towards Vincent’s face. “You’re windy! That’s what’s up with you!”
Vincent clenched his fists, a flush on his cheeks. “It’s not that! I just don’t think the risk is justified!”
“Well, who’s bloody well askin’ you what you think?” The heat and the additional nagging worry of Vincent’s remarks were beginning to wear down Fallow’s reserve of outward calm. “I’m bloody fed up with you an’ your sort! Always showin’ off, and playin’ the big man, with yer lardy-da ways! An’ when it comes to the showdown, what ’appens?” He poked the man’s jacket with a fat finger. “I’ll tell you what ’appens! You blow yer top! No guts! So if that’s all you’ve got to offer, you’d better ‘op it!” He glared belligerently, all the pent-up rage clear on his red face.
Vincent turned away, his slim body shaking with either rage or fear, Fallow didn’t care which. He had said it at last, he had told one of ‘them’ off, and he felt immensely better.
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