by David Laing
‘It’s a cave!’ she shouted to the others but doubted they would hear her above the roar of the falls. Bent at the waist, she inched into the cave with the rope dangling from her waist. The cave had a musty, dank smell and fine spray spattered and tickled her cheeks. In its far corners, she could just make out the grey-black patterns of spider webs that were hanging from the roof and sides. Her eyes fell on something else. It was a bulky, shapeless object and it was lying on a rock shelf below the spider webs.
She hurried over. It was a hessian sack. With trembling fingers, she pried it open. She gasped. It was Mr Wu’s collection. She foraged inside. It was all there – the gold nuggets, the opals and all the other minerals and crystals. And near the top, its tree-like, orange membranes glistening, was Mr Wu’s favourite – the crocoite.
Hurrying, she untied the rope around her waist. She attached it to the sack; then, making sure the collection was secure and wouldn’t fall out, she gave three sharp tugs on the rope, the signal to pull.
She smiled to herself, wishing she could see their faces when they opened the hessian sack and saw Mr Wu’s treasure.
Chapter Fifty
* * *
'Well, you weren’t wrong,’ Reg beamed, as Jars, now safely back, untied herself.
‘Absolutely brilliant!’ Snook gushed. ‘You solved the puzzle and found Wu Han’s collection. Nice one! I knew you would. Knew it all the time.’ He looked over at Reg. ‘I guess we’d better take it back to Mr Wu now though, like Jars promised.’
Reg pulled back his sleeve and looked at his watch. ‘We’ll do that but we’ll have to hurry. The Shandora will be here soon.’
Quenton, who’d been standing to the side during all this, threw his arms in the air. ‘Hey! Does that mean we have to go over that waterfall again?’
‘That’s right,’ Reg said. ‘We’ve no option.’
Quenton groaned and pulled a rather nasty face.
They crossed the waterfall without mishap and headed for Wu Han’s Camp. It was nine o’clock when they got there.
Except for Wu Han’s wild animals that were happily grazing in the clearing, the place looked deserted.
‘He must be inside,’ Reg suggested.
Jars frowned. ‘I guess so, but it’s a little strange. He’s usually out and about by now. I’ll go look.’
With Shadow tagging along, she ran across the open space towards Mr Wu’s hut. When she got there, the door was half-open. She knocked but there was no answer. She stuck her head around the door and saw straightaway that the room was empty.
‘There’s no one here,’ she called back to the others. ‘Not even Po-Yee.’ Shadow poked his head around Jars’ legs to look inside, too. She ruffled his ears. ‘They’re not here, Shadow. They must be outside somewhere.’
‘That’s strange,’ Reg said as he and the others caught up with Jars. ‘I wonder where he’s gone.’ He checked the time. ‘I hope he won’t be too long. Time’s getting on.’ He waved his arm in a circle. ‘In the meantime we’d better spread out; see if he’s around here somewhere.’
‘Y-you don’t th-think those alien things have got him?’ Quenton was quick to ask.
‘Don’t be silly,’ Snook said, not quite believing his own words. ‘Do what Reg said and start lookin’.
Shadow had different ideas. Before they could move off, he nudged Jars’ leg and then ran towards the hut.
Snook gave Jars a friendly shove. ‘He wants you to follow him. I reckon he know somethin’ we don’t.’
Shadow ran back and tugged at her sleeve. Snook was right. She quickly followed Shadow back to the hut.
She pushed the door fully open and stepped inside, not knowing what to expect. Then she saw it. Weighed down with a small stone in the middle of the table was a sheet of paper. Shadow barked his approval when she reached over and picked the paper up. It was a note. She read its contents:
Jars,
I know you come back again. I know you find Wu Han’s treasure.
Please, you take treasure with you, but not Wu Han’s special crystal. And please, you remember what I tell you about stars.
Jars stood, not moving. Thoughts bounced around in her mind, twisting and writhing like snakes. She felt terrible.
And there was a smell, a raw almond-like smell. A cold shiver ran down her spine and she hurried outside, her pulse racing.
Chapter Fifty-One
* * *
'Beats me,’ Reg said, reading the note Jars handed to him.
Jars took it back and read it one more time. ‘It doesn’t feel right, Reg, taking his rock collection. I mean, Mr Wu was really proud of it. It took him years to gather all those specimens. In a way, the rocks and crystals were his life.’
‘I agree, but it sounds like he really wants you to have them. He must think you’ll make good use of them.’
Reg hesitated, then said, ‘But, where is he? That’s the main question.’ He stroked his chin, looking a little awkward. ‘I’m really sorry, Jars, but the thing is … it’s fairly obvious. The collection’s a parting gift, his way of saying goodbye. I don’t think Wu Han is coming back. His note sort of says that.’
‘Not coming back? How do you mean?’
‘I mean I think he’s left for good. Sorry, Jars, but that’s the way it is. Wu Han’s gone.’ He called out to Snook and Quenton, who were waiting outside. ‘Wu Han’s not here. We’ll head back.’
Leaving the crocoite crystal behind as asked, head bowed and carrying the hessian sack with the rest of the rock collection over her shoulder, Jars fell behind the others. She couldn’t help the silent tears welling in her eyes.
Shadow kept close to her side and a low rumble, like very distant thunder, escaped from his throat.
Chapter Fifty-Two
* * *
After Evelyn Grimshaw shut off the motor, she let the boat drift alongside the old jetty for the second time that weekend. Hector leaned over with the mooring rope and tied the boat to one of the posts. Without hesitating, the two Grimshaws and Quigley, chins jutting as if on a mission, climbed onto the jetty. From there, they hurried to the track that would take them to the ranger’s shack and maybe, the treasure.
When the shack came into sight, they hid behind a covering of ferns. ‘It looks deserted,’ Evelyn said. ‘That means they’ve already gone to find the treasure. We’ll have to wait here. Let’s hope they come back soon, before Jim Kelly arrives to pick them up.’
‘You seem quite sure that Jim Kelly’s going to pick them up,’ Quigley said.
‘Of course I’m sure. It’s the last day of the holiday weekend so he’ll be picking up those horrors as soon as he sells his catch. He’ll want to get them back to Cray Bay before nightfall, so he’ll be here soon – about lunchtime, I’d guess.’
Persuaded by Evelyn’s logic, Quigley stretched out behind a large tree fern where he had a good view of the shack and the path through the forest. He’d just settled himself down, listening to the occasional bird call and the steady murmur of the stream, when he suddenly sat up. ‘I hear voices,’ he said, poking his head around the fern.
Hector, who’d also been stretched out, leaped to his feet. ‘Yeah, so can I, and they’re getting closer.’
‘Quiet you two,’ Evelyn warned. ‘It is them. I can see one of them now. It’s the girl and she’s carrying something over her shoulder. It looks like a sack.’
‘They’ve got it!’ Hector cried out, forgetting himself. ‘They must have found the treasure!’
Evelyn motioned for him to keep quiet. ‘You idiot! Keep your voice down!’
When she was certain Hector hadn’t been heard and it was safe to do so, she said from the corner of her mouth, ‘They’ve found the treasure. That’s for sure. Now we make it ours!’
‘I must say, I’m a little confused.’ It was Quigley. ‘Would you kindly tell me how you plan on doing that?’
Ignoring a bemused-looking Quigley, Evelyn’s gaze fell on Hector. ‘As soon as those brats and the ranger
get inside, we move. You go down by the river, but stay hidden somewhere among the bushes. Take the .22 with you and fire a few shots as if you’re shooting at something. That’ll get their attention, especially the ranger’s.’
‘What then?’ Hector asked.
‘Reg Carter, and probably the others, will come out to see what the shooting’s about. When they do, let off another couple of shots. That’ll set them running in your direction. Then you get out of there as fast as you can and hightail it back here.’
A thin, wormy smile crossed her lips. ‘With the shack empty, Quigley and I will walk in there and grab the treasure. Then we all make our way back to the boat.’
Two pairs of eyes, hidden in the shadows of the trees, were already observing what was transpiring around them. Invisible, their owners moved into position.
Inside the shack, Jars pressed her face to the window. ‘There’s something out there.’
‘Where?’ Snook said, joining her.
She pointed. ‘Down there, near the river; I saw something move in the trees.’
In direct contrast to his earlier wimpy behaviour, Quenton leaned over on his bunk and said in his creepiest, scariest voice, ‘Oooo dear, is Jarsy all scared of the boogie-woogie men? What are we to do?’
Snook’s patience with Quenton was running out. ‘Can it, why don’t you? You’re foolin’ no one. It’s easy to be the big brave man now, seein’ that we’re goin’ home in a minute. Besides, you never know, it might have been one of your boogie-woogie men that Jars saw and he might even be coming for you!’
Reg walked over. ‘Listen, you guys. I think there’s been enough talk about creatures from outer space for one day. Anyway, something tells me Mr Wu’s Collectors are long gone by now with …’ He nearly said what he was really thinking, that they’d taken Wu Han with them. That would’ve been cruel, he told himself. Jars was upset enough – but he’d caught himself in time. ‘Let’s pack up and head for the jetty. The boat’ll be here soon.’
‘But what about Mr Wu?’ Jars said. ‘We don’t really know what’s happened to him. We shouldn’t leave till we find out.’
Reg sighed. It was time to clear the air, time to help the kids put an end to all of this talk about aliens and Mr Wu. They’d had enough excitement for one weekend, enough to give them nightmares for a lifetime. ‘Finish your packing,’ he said, ‘then we’ll all go down to the river, see the shadows among the trees for what they really are, try to put what we’ve all heard in some perspective. Then we can all head for home.’
They all marched down to the creek. As usual, Shadow led the way. ‘It’s like we’re in the army,’ Snook quipped, ‘like we’re on patrol or somethin’, lookin’ for the enemy.’
Chapter Fifty-Three
* * *
Standing on the river bank with the kids, Reg laughed. ‘I wouldn’t hold out much hope of seeing any enemies, Snook. There’s no bad guys here.’ He waved his arm in a sweeping motion. ‘See, there’s nothing to worry about except trees and scrub, and those dark things you can see are just plain old shadows.’
Jars stared at the tangled growth on both sides of the stream. Reg was right in a way; there was nothing to see that was out of the ordinary, nothing to worry about. Not at the moment anyway.
But Reg was wrong too she couldn’t help feeling, remembering Mr Wu’s words as they danced in her head. They were not false words, not fantasy. The Collectors were real; she believed that, and for some reason they had chosen to take Mr Wu and Po-Yee with them to … wherever. Yes, there was something out of the ordinary happening and it was a worry.
Suddenly, her thoughts left her. She lifted her head. The bush had gone quiet, as quiet as a corpse. The birds had ceased their chatter; there was no longer any movement or rustling in the leaves or bushes, and even the river seemed to sleep.
Reg’s words rang in her ears: There’s nothing to worry about except trees and scrub and those dark things you can see are just plain old shadows. He was mistaken. Something was definitely out there, among the trees.
Chapter Fifty-Four
* * *
'That’s strange,’ Evelyn said to Quigley as they crouched behind the undergrowth, watching, ‘I didn’t hear any shots, but for some reason they’ve all left the shack anyway.’
‘Yes, for some reason they’ve gone down to the river. I wonder why?’
Evelyn stepped into the open and coming to a decision, said, ‘The why doesn’t matter! The main thing is that the way is clear now. The treasure’s unguarded. Forget what we said earlier about a diversion; we don’t need it.’ Calling for Quigley to follow, she sprinted towards the empty shack.
She burst through the open door of the shack and then waited, as Quigley, struggling for breath, caught up with her. They stood just inside the doorway and glanced over the room. ‘There it is!’ Evelyn cried. ‘On the table.’ She rushed over and picked up the hessian bag. She pressed it to her chest. ‘Finally!’ she gasped, a little out of breath, too. ‘We’ve got it!’
She turned to leave but then froze. Her hands flew to her mouth, trying to stifle the scream that had stuck in her throat. The bag fell from her grasp and she stared … at the two silent creatures that stood before her.
They were tall, more than two metres high. Their bodies were stooped, covered in tiny, glistening scales and their arms were angled upwards as though worshipping, like large praying mantises. The sickening, almond smell that perme-ated the air around them like a thick, choking mist, caught in her throat. Her head spun and she felt faint. This can’t be happening, she tried to tell herself. It isn’t so. These things aren’t real. They can’t be.
That’s when she saw Quigley. He was on all fours, his arms circling the leg of a chair. He was blubbering.
With some effort, her eyes never leaving the creatures, she forced herself to go to him.
He was still on his knees and his whole body shook as if in a seizure. He looked at her; then he lifted his head and screamed, ’No! No! Don’t touch me. Leave me alone.’
‘Quigley, it’s me. Evelyn. Get on your feet. We have to get out of here!’
The aliens continued to watch, their eyes boring into hers as though trying to read her mind as she struggled to help Quigley. Then, to her surprise, the two creatures, in a loping, slow motion gait, made their way over to the kitchen table. They turned and looked at Evelyn and Quigley who were still in a tangle on the floor. Then, from some invisible place on their bodies, they each produced a package. Looking towards the strange humans who were acting most peculiarly, they placed the packages on top of the table. As though their mission was complete, they crossed to the open door and disappeared.
Evelyn pleaded with him to get up. ‘They’ve gone!’ She yelled in his ear. ‘We have to get out of here! They might come back!’
Like a beached whale, Quigley refused to move.
Evelyn grabbed the back of his jacket and with panic-like strength, hauled him to his feet. The treasure forgotten, Evelyn pushed Quigley through the doorway into the open. The sudden realisation that they were getting out of there seemed to revitalise Quigley a little, and with Evelyn helping, they staggered, half-running, half-walking, towards the path that would take them to back to their boat.
They barely heard the three rifle shots that suddenly shattered the forest’s silence.
Chapter Fifty-Five
* * *
'Hunters!’ Reg cried as soon as the shots were fired. ‘Stay here while I go look!’ He raced into the forest with Shadow.
‘Wh-what’s happening now?’ Quenton said, whining again. ‘There’s always something crazy going on in this stupid forest. Why can’t we just go home?’
‘Somebody’s shootin’ somethin’,’ Snook said. ‘Reg’ll sort it out.’
Following his sister’s instructions, Hector had fired three shots into the air; then considering his job done, he had started to make his way back to her and Quigley. He couldn’t believe his ears when he heard the shouts and crash of bu
shes a short distance behind him. It was too soon! They should still be in the shack! He wouldn’t have time to escape. Not now!
His mind exploded with disbelief and like the bitter taste of bile, panic engulfed him. The enemy was closer now. He ran, his heart pounding as he forced his body forward, lengthening his stride, pumping his arms, fighting against the chest-high grasses and the low tree branches that grabbed at his legs and whipped his face. He threw the rifle away to free his arms, and pushed on, flailing and thrashing his way through the green tangle, his legs and arms pumping like windmills. He had to get away, lose whoever was chasing him. Somehow!
Reg, feeling the oily stickiness of sweat trickle down his face as he struggled to overtake the shooter, was also struggling. Too many hours behind a desk, he told himself. His legs felt heavy and his heart thumped against his chest. ‘We’re gonna lose him,’ he called out to Shadow, who was comfort-ably loping in front of him in no apparent hurry. ‘Go get him, Shadow! Seek ’im! Don’t wait for me.’
Shadow didn’t hesitate. He barked once, then raced ahead, easily dodging the bushes and trees.
Hector’s body protested. His lungs were on the verge of exploding and his legs, like blocks of cement, were refusing to go any further. He needed to recover. He stopped for a moment. He wished he hadn’t.
A deep-throated growl came from behind. He let out an arghhhh sound and leaped for a low-hanging branch. He tried to haul himself up, out of the dog’s reach.
Shadow had different ideas.
Like a brown blur, he flew through the air, grabbing Hector by the seat of his pants. He hung on, legs dangling in the air. Cursing, Hector struck out with his legs, trying to shake him off. But Shadow, white spit dripping from his jaws, refused to let go.