Delta-Victor

by Clare Revell

  Having read Lou’s comment about sleeping a lot, I watched her last night. Though her sleep isn’t exactly restful, she’s right. She falls asleep almost as soon as she lies down and doesn’t stir until either I or one of the girls wake her.

  Speaking of which, I need to get the fire going again and then get everyone up. It’s doubtful the villagers will come after us, but I’d rather put another mile between us and them just in case. Preferably more, but I’m not too hopeful. It’s been days since Lou moved more than a few feet. I fear a long walk may be beyond her.

  ~*~

  Christmas Eve, December 24th, day 36, early morning. Jim writing.

  I have begun to doubt that we will ever make the coast. Some days we barely make half a mile, other days we don’t move at all. My priority has to be getting the girls safely home.

  I’m trusting in God to find my parents and get them back to England in one piece. And praying He will do the same with us. What we need is a miracle, and although I’m fresh out of them, I know Someone who specializes in the miracle business.

  I only have one choice left. I have to go on alone and call for help. That means finding a village in which to leave the girls, or leave them here and hope they’ll be OK if the weather changes or something else happens.

  During a mid-morning rest, Jim sat between Staci and Ailsa and lowered his voice, not wanting Lou to overhear him. “I was thinking, I’d better leave you guys and head for the base on my own.”

  “Why?”

  “Lou needs help, Stace. It could be weeks before we get there at this rate.”

  “No. You’re not leaving me.”

  “We stand a better chance together, Jim,” Ailsa said, agreeing with Staci.

  Jim sighed. “If we keep going as we are, Lou will never make it. Her leg is really bad again. She’s not looking too good as it is. She’s sleeping a lot more than she should do and she’s losing weight.”

  “But then she’s not eating, is she?” Staci shrugged. “So we find a village. See if they can help. They’re bound to have a doctor. Or a phone.”

  “And how many cell phone towers have you seen around here?”

  Lou hobbled over to them. “Is this a private discussion or can anyone join in?”

  Ailsa smiled. “Jim wants to leave us here and head for the base on his own. We are trying to talk him out of it.”

  “Too right. He goes, we go. Anyway it’s Christmas. Jim can’t go now.”

  Ailsa sighed. “It’s been years since I celebrated Christmas. We used to go to a midnight service on Christmas Eve. I loved singing the carols. And afterwards coming out into the still night air, where you could see your breath.”

  “We could sing carols later if you like. OK, it’s not going to be cold, but we can still sing.” Jim smiled at her.

  “Thank you. I’d like that.”

  Lou grinned. “Where is the nearest turkey farm then?”

  “No turkeys here. Just us chickens,” Staci said.

  Jim groaned. “Ha ha. Your jokes are worse than Lou’s.”

  “Mine?” she scoffed. “I learned from the master as far as bad jokes go. But it isn’t Christmas without a turkey dinner.”

  “We don’t need turkey anyway. I’ll organize dinner. Make it a special one.” Staci added.

  “You’re on,” Lou said. She looked at Jim. “How about we just stay put until the day after tomorrow? It’s too hot to walk and two more days won’t make much difference.”

  “We should camp by the river then,” Ailsa said. “Then we’ll have shade and water.”

  “And fish.” Jim said. “Fish for dinner.”

  Lou felt a bolt of fear run through her as she remembered what had happened the last time Jim had wanted fish. Still, she reasoned, there shouldn’t be any sharks in this river.

  They packed up camp and started walking.

  Twenty minutes later, they reached the river. With a clearing, trees for shade, grass to sit and sleep on and all the fresh, clean water they could drink, Jim declared it perfect. He put the bags down. “We’ll stop here.”

  “Sounds good,” Lou said. She sat down and leaned back against a tree, rubbing her knee.

  Sitting around the fire that evening, the stars shone brightly in the darkness.

  Deefer dozed at Lou’s feet.

  Staci looked across at Ailsa. “We have this nativity scene at home. On Christmas Eve we’d put all the figures in except the baby Jesus. We’d do that on Christmas morning before opening our presents. After we’d set up the nativity, Dad would tell us the Christmas story.

  “There would be carols on the CD player; mince pies in the oven; satsumas and tangerines on the sideboard. Tinsel, the tree covered with lights and baubles, and cards hanging on pieces of string all over the walls. Then Mum would put the turkey in overnight—so in the morning the house would smell all Christmas-y.” She paused. “Tell me a story, Jim.”

  Jim looked at her. “Aren’t you a bit old for bedtime stories?”

  “Please Jim—just this once.”

  “OK. What one do you want?”

  “That’s a silly question.” Staci laughed. “The Christmas story.”

  “So long as you lie down. It’s late.”

  Staci did as she was told.

  They all listened as Jim told the story of that first Christmas night two thousand years ago.

  Staci smiled. “Thanks Jim. We all need reminding. Usually we get so caught up and bogged down in the commercialization of it—cards, food, present shopping—that we forget what it’s all about.”

  “A tiny baby,” Ailsa said. “Who grew up to save His people.”

  “The best present anyone could have,” Jim said. He looked at his watch. “Midnight,” he said. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Ailsa and Lou chorused.

  The night was warm and still. Ailsa looked up at the sky. “I can almost imagine the angels. Peace on Earth and goodwill to all men.”

  ~*~

  Christmas Day, day thirty-seven according to the logbook, was the hottest day since they landed on Agrihan. Hot, humid and sultry.

  Even Ailsa complained it was too hot as she and Staci headed off to find enough fruit to last them the day.

  Lou reckoned the temperature was well over a hundred. She was glad they weren’t going anywhere today.

  Deefer clambered out of the river and ran into the middle of the campsite. He shook himself vigorously, showering water everywhere.

  “T’was Christmas Day and all through the camp, a wet Deefer ran making everything damp,” Jim quipped.

  “You get worse not better.” Lou groaned, wiping her face. “That’s enough, Deefer. You’ll dry soon in this heat.”

  Ailsa and Staci came back with their arms full of fruit. “We found mushrooms to go with the fish from earlier,” Staci said excitedly. “Dinner will be a feast.”

  “But that’s not the best bit,” Ailsa added. “We found a village. It’s about half a mile from here.”

  “That’s great,” Jim said, a huge grin on his face. “We’ll go now.”

  “Too hot.” Ailsa shot a sideways glance at Lou. “After dinner when it’s a little cooler will do fine.”

  She and Staci sat down and started preparing the mushrooms and other roots they had collected, while Jim started the fire.

  Lou rubbed her knee. Her leg was a lot worse than she was letting on. It was beginning to smell now and she felt rotten. But the others didn’t need to know that. At some point she’d confide in the logbook, in a coded entry no one else could read. Until they had to.

  Jim leaned across and handed her the bottle. “Time for another dose of the mytona, mate.”

  “Thank you.” She swallowed the mouthful and gave the bottle back to Jim. “At least I can swallow this now without wanting to throw up. We have a lot to thank Ailsa for. Not just this, but finding food and so on.”

  “Yeah we do.” Jim looked at Ailsa and Staci across the other side of the camp.

&nb
sp; They had their heads together and were giggling over something.

  Jim glanced at Lou. “They get on well, don’t they?”

  “Just as well.”

  “What are you implying?”

  Lou did her best to look innocent. “Nothing.”

  “Yes, you are. What?”

  “Well, what with your liking Ailsa, it...” She laughed as Jim blushed. “Sorry. Seriously if we didn’t get on, this trek wouldn’t be much fun, would it?”

  “We’d also starve.”

  “True. So you like her for her looks, fashion sense, or survival skills?”

  “Unfair question,” Jim said blushing again. “All of the above.”

  Lou pushed herself up. “I’ll go give them a hand while you go get some more water from the stream.” She slowly made her way over to the others and sat down. “Give me those fish, and I’ll gut them.”

  Ailsa handed over her knife and the fish. “So is Jim taken?”

  “Oh, please take him.” Staci laughed. “No. He likes you though.”

  “He’s very fond of you, Lou. I don’t want to step on your toes here if there’s something between you.”

  Lou snorted. “He doesn’t see me as anything more than a sister or a friend. He never will.”

  Ailsa concentrated on the task and didn’t look up. “Does he really like me?”

  Staci grinned. “The word besotted springs to mind. What about you?”

  Ailsa blushed and Staci giggled.

  “So it is mutual then?”

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to. Your face said it for you.” Lou looked at the fish. “Shame we can’t make the fish purple again. That was so funny.”

  Ailsa looked confused. “Purple fish?”

  “We dyed it to get our own back on Jim. You should have seen his face. He did eat it in the end.”

  Ailsa laughed. She wrapped the fish in leaves and then gave the fish to Jim to put in the fire to bake

  Staci stood up. “I’m going to get some more fruit,” she said. “I’ll take Deefer.”

  “You can’t go on your own, Stace,” Lou objected.

  “I won’t be on my own. I’m taking Deefer. Anyway it’s not far.” She grabbed a rucksack and whistled to Deefer. “Come on. Walkies.” She clipped on his lead and ran down the path, Deefer at her heels.

  Lou looked at Jim.

  Once Staci had gone out of sight, his face had changed. The almost forced happiness had vanished, leaving a mask of sorrow on his face.

  She asked gently, “Are you OK?”

  “Not really,” he said honestly. “It’s hard. I keep thinking about Mum and Dad and how we usually spent Christmas. The house would be decorated from top to bottom with tinsel and ceiling decorations. Dad would hang lights outside. Mum would have lit candles everywhere. I just wish I knew where they are and whether they’re all right.” He broke off as his voice wavered.

  Lou crossed over to him and sitting next to him, put her arms around him as he finally gave in to his emotions. Lou held him as he sobbed. She looked across at Ailsa. “It had to come,” she said. “He’s been strong for both of them for so long now.”

  A few minutes later, Jim pulled away. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “For what? Being human?”

  “For making such a fuss.”

  “Jim, real men cry. You’re allowed to miss them. Grief is the price you pay for love, as someone once told me. You can’t keep it locked up forever.”

  Ailsa sat up suddenly. She sniffed the air and looked at the others. “Can you smell something?”

  The others both sniffed. Smoke drifted over the trees.

  “Burning,” Jim said.

  Terror shot through Lou. “The forest is on fire. The lava flow must have hit something combustible and started a fire.”

  9

  “Which way did Staci go?” Jim asked leaping to his feet.

  “That way,” Lou pointed.

  “No. That’s where the fire is,” Jim groaned. “We’d better go find her.” He set off into the forest calling his sister’s name.

  The others followed. After a bit, the smoke got thicker.

  Ailsa coughed. “Jim. This is getting us nowhere fast.”

  “We have to find her. Staci!” Jim yelled.

  Ailsa grabbed hold of him. “We need to tackle this fire, Jim. Staci has Deefer with her. She’ll be fine.”

  Jim looked wildly at her. “Tackle this? How?”

  “We have no choice. We have to.”

  “Other than hoping the wind changes?” Jim growled.

  “And praying for rain,” Lou muttered.

  Ailsa rapidly improvised some fire beaters and then they proceeded into the dense smoke.

  By the time they reached the actual fire, the smoke was almost like smog, the sun blotted out by the thick blackness.

  Ailsa and Jim began to beat at the flames.

  Lou leant on one crutch and did the best she could one handed. It was useless.

  The fire was winning.

  They could hear tree after tree come crashing down and being devoured by this monster that raged unheeded through the forest. They heard the animals that screamed in fear as they fled. Worse still, were the screams of pain as the fire claimed another victim. Rabbits, monkeys and the bigger predators, all fled from a common enemy, running for their lives.

  Somewhere in that burning inferno was Staci.

  Jim didn’t know if it was that which gave them strength or the constant stream of telegram prayers. He knew the fire was gaining. If only the wind would change or it would rain, but it was for his sister that he prayed the hardest.

  Suddenly Lou keeled over right in the path of the fire.

  Jim pulled her to safety. He shouted over the roar of the flames to Ailsa. “How far is that village?”

  “Not far. It’s behind the fire line.”

  “Let’s take Lou there. Join forces with the natives. This front will hit the river soon.”

  Jim picked Lou up and he and Ailsa, who carried the crutches, made their way the short distance to the village.

  Behind the fire, it was a place of relative safety.

  Ailsa spoke to one of the women who agreed to look after Lou, while the others fought the fire.

  The woman pointed out which way to go.

  Jim and Ailsa went out to join the villagers. It was exhausting, back breaking work. For well over an hour they worked without a rest. They kept at it—they had to.

  Ailsa explained to Jim, using sign language, as ordinary speech was now impossible over the roar of the flames, that she needed to rest for a few minutes.

  Jim nodded and Ailsa sank to the ground.

  Several of the natives sat and rested too.

  A tree crashed to the ground nearby.

  Jim was engrossed in his work and didn’t turn a hair.

  Ailsa pulled his arm to get his attention. “Rest.”

  He shook his head.

  Ailsa tugged at him. “You...must…rest...now,” she insisted.

  He was reluctant, but finally gave in. The smoke was thick but not choking. Jim rested uneasily. Staci was out there. Alone. Once again he was failing her. After five minutes he too got up and rejoined the others. For several hours they worked, resting for a few minutes once an hour.

  The wind changed, blowing the flames east. East towards new fuel and the village. For a while no one realized, so busy were they fighting what they could see. Then above the flames came a single drum beat, loud and fast.

  Jim looked questioningly at Ailsa as the natives stopped dead.

  “The village,” Ailsa said. “The village is burning.”

  As one they headed back towards the village, all other priorities rescinded.

  ~*~

  In the village the women frantically passed buckets of water in a chain to douse the roofs of the huts.

  Lou did what she could, but it wasn’t much and she sank to the ground exhausted.

  Flam
es began to devour hut after hut, tree after tree crashing down.

  The drums that someone had sounded had worked and the men came rushing back.

  A small child ran across and into one of the larger huts to escape the flames.

  Lou tried to alert the villagers to the danger, but she couldn’t make herself understood.

  Jim and Ailsa ran into the village and waved.

  “Jim!”

  “Are you OK? You’re not hurt?”

  “I’m fine. There’s a child in that hut,” Lou pointed. “It’s in the fire path. I can’t move or make myself understood.”

  Jim nodded and dashed across the compound. As he entered the hut, flames erupted from the roof.

  “Jim!” Lou screamed.

  A huge tree crashed down, landing on the blazing hut.

  Ailsa ran across to it. “Jim. Jim.”

  One of the men held her back.

  She rapidly explained in their language that Jim and a small child were in there.

  The two men started a rescue attempt.

  Lou managed to limp across to Ailsa. What had she done? She’d sent him to his death. Staci would never forgive her. But that didn’t matter because she’d never forgive herself.

  Lightning flashed across the sky. Thunder echoed in response and the heavens opened. Torrential rain poured down, soaking everyone within minutes.

  With the fire risk significantly diminished, all the men turned to the rescue effort. The tree was huge and had almost completely flattened the hut. Bigger than all the other huts, Lou surmised this one had belonged to the chieftain.

  He and his wife stood by the girls, frantic with worry, Ailsa’s translation indicating that the child was their only son.

  It was over an hour before the rain stopped. The once dry clearing was now more like a mud bath, but still the rescue work went on. It was another hour after that before they had removed enough of the tree to venture into the hut. Another half-hour passed before two bodies were carried out and placed in another hut which had escaped the blaze.

  Ailsa and the chieftain’s wife ran over to it.

  The chieftain helped Lou across.

  “It’s OK. They’re alive,” Ailsa said.

  Lou’s legs gave way as relief flooded her. She started to sink to the ground when strong arms folded around her.