Lost In Kakadu (3 page)

“Kakadu is a cultural landscape that’s been shaped by spiritual ancestors of the Aboriginal people since the Creation of Time. It covers almost twenty thousand square kilometres, and during our short stay we’ll see spectacular wildlife, monsoon rainforest, open savannah, mangroves and high stone plateaus—just to name a few highlights. But right now, I’m going to catch some sleep before we land at our remote runway in the middle of Australia’s world heritage listed park, Kakadu. See you soon!” She continued to smile into the camera for a further ten seconds. “That’s a wrap.”

Tom grunted again, clicked off the camera, and forced the lens cap into place. He plonked the camera back on the floor, folded his arms across his chest, stretched his legs into the aisle and closed his eyes.

“Wow, that was great,” Toni said.

“Thanks.”

“No, I mean really. I’m amazed you remember it all.”

“Well, that’s my job.” Madonna’s tone was condescending.

“So tell me, how hard is it to be a travel reporter?” The girl seemed oblivious to Madonna’s demeanour.

Tom huffed. “Can’t be too bloody hard.
She
does it.”

Madonna glared at him. “Why do you have to be such a dickhead?” She rolled her eyes at Abigail, then lounged back in her chair and closed her eyes, signalling the end of the conversation.

Abigail nudged Spencer in the ribs. “Did you hear all that?” she whispered.

He squinted at her. “What
now
?”

“Oh, nothing.” Abigail sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

Dave’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Hello back there, folks. Now the lady’s done her piece, I’d like to point out some beautiful scenery. Below us is the heart of Kakadu, the East Alligator River, so named by a nineteenth-century explorer who mistook our crocodiles for alligators. It’s one of the four great rivers that Kakadu’s life depends on. I’ll bring the plane down for a closer look. It’s usually an excellent place for spotting wildlife.”

Abigail felt the plane’s nose drop, and looked over Spencer’s shoulder, trying to see out the small window.

Dave’s slow drawl oozed from the speakers again. “It’s our lucky day, folks. Those of you on the left hand side can see we’ve spooked a herd of wild brumbies. Look at them beauties run.”

“Ooh, where?” Toni jumped from her seat. Abigail looked up at her in disgust as the girl craned over her shoulder to peer out the window.

“Toni, get back to your seat.” Dave sounded serious.

“But I love horses, and I missed it!”

“Look, go back to your seat. I’ll turn around so you can see them out your window. We’re ahead of schedule anyway.”

Abigail groaned, but refrained from commenting. She shook her head at Toni and mouthed, ‘Sit down’.

Seated again, Toni pushed her nose up against the window.

Abigail felt the plane lean over, and glanced over at Madonna’s window. The sky disappeared, revealing nothing but dense tree tops. Green vegetation flashed by. To her horror, she guessed the plane was just fifty metres from the ground. The cabin shuddered, and she dug her fingernails into her chair.

Suddenly, the engines stalled. For a long moment, whistling wind was the only noise.

The engines sparked again, and when the plane lurched forward, Abigail was thrown back against her seat. She let out the breath she’d been holding. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m sure it was nothing.” Spencer patted her hand.

Dave’s microphone crackled. “Sorry about that folks, but no need to worry. This little baby’s built for saving lives, not losing them.”

The plane’s wings were parallel to the ground again, and skimming over the treetops. Abigail remained rigid, her fingers still gripping the arm of the chair. She couldn’t seem to make them let go. The plane tilted into another turn, and the sky disappeared from Madonna’s window again. Moments into the steady arc, the engines coughed and the plane bucked. Abigail’s stomach lurched. When Spencer’s grip tightened painfully on her hand, she knew they were in trouble.

The right propeller ploughed into a gum tree. Toni screamed as her side of the plane was cloaked in an explosion of leaves.

“Brace yourselves! We’re going to crash!” Dave’s voice was panic driven.

The plane ricocheted off trees. Tearing metal squealed in her ears. Charlie started praying loudly. In that instant, Abigail knew she was going to die.

She bent forward, wrapped her arms around her calves and squeezed tight. As she studied her four hundred dollar shoes, the plane hit.

The nose took the full brunt of the first impact. Abigail would have been thrown from her seat, if not for the seatbelt biting into her flesh. A huge chunk of metal tore from the base of the cabin. The gaping hole gave her a close up view of the forest below.

Charlie’s prayers turned to screams. Abigail stared blankly at a red stain on her shoe. She wanted to wipe it off, but couldn’t move. Her fingers bit deeper into her ankles. Charlie’s scream faded, as if he was no longer in the plane. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could cover her ears to block out the horror. The scream abruptly cut off. There could only be one reason why.

Her eyes shot open just in time to see a branch the size of a man’s chest smash though the side of the plane. It sounded like a freight train slamming into a solid wall.

Abigail turned as Toni was flung from her seat. The girl’s dead weight dropped brokenly onto her.

Searing pain shot up Abigail’s back. Her world twisted. Her stomach lurched.

Everything went black.

Mackenzie clutched the armrests, his fingers locked around them in a vice-like grip. Only his eyes moved, blinking at the carnage around him.

“Jesus. We crashed.” He whispered it, unsure if he actually believed it. “Are you okay, Rodney?”

Rodney’s upper body was hanging outside the plane. It was the slap of reality Mackenzie needed and he clawed Rodney back in. “Oh God. Rodney. No!”

The amount of blood splattered over Rodney’s face was shocking enough, but Mackenzie jumped back when he saw Rodney’s jaw, half of it disfigured beyond recognition. Rodney was dead. Mackenzie wanted to look away but shock trapped him, making him take in every gruesome detail. The creaking metal ticked off the seconds and it wasn’t until he realised nobody else was moving that he dragged his eyes away.

Opposite him, Madonna’s body was doubled over, unnaturally still. He gasped at the metal pole sticking out of her stomach and looked away. His heart thundered in his chest as a new horror hit him.

“Oh God. Is anyone else alive?”

He turned around. The entire tail section of the plane was gone, sheared off barely inches from his seat. “Hello! Can anyone hear me?”

A low groan broke the silence and he spun toward the person in front of him. It was Toni, her neck kinked awkwardly. Thick blood oozed from her nose and one eye remained open.

“Help.” He heard a faint voice.

The plane was at a steep angle with the nose much higher than the back. He unbuckled his belt and was forced to grip the seat just to stand up. Spencer’s head was wedged backwards, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. He was dead too. The fog in Mackenzie’s brain cleared as he realised Toni was in Spencer’s wife’s seat. He stepped over the jagged hole in the floor and jumped when a hand snatched his ankle.

“Help me.”

A shiver ran up his spine as he stared at Toni’s lifeless body. But then he saw Abigail’s legs move beneath her.

“Thank God.” He straddled the hole in the floor and cringed as he lifted Toni. Her head rolled onto his shoulder and he tried not to look into her vacant eyes as he placed her body in her original seat. He scrubbed his hands on his jeans as he climbed back to help Abigail. “Are you okay?”

A deep gash sliced through a lump on her forehead. She touched it and her eyes widened when she noticed the blood on her fingers.

“I’m bleeding.” She touched her forehead again. “Spencer, help me.”

“He’s dead. Everybody’s dead!”

She turned to her husband and froze. Mackenzie thought she was going to scream but instead she covered her eyes. “No, no, no, no, no.”

She repeated it over and over. When she began struggling with her seatbelt, Mackenzie looked toward the cockpit. Through the door, jagged pieces of the shattered windscreen glistened in the sun like giant teeth. Inching toward the oval doorway he glanced at Toni. The smear of blood on her cheek was a severe contrast to her milky white skin. He closed his eyes, willing the image to be erased from his memory.

The cockpit and the pilot had borne the first crunch of impact and it showed. Blood dripped from several of the instruments and the strong smell of metal invaded his senses. Bile rose to his throat and Mackenzie ran to the hole in the floor and threw up.

Exhausted, he sat back and wiped his mouth. His eyes stung and his ribs ached. He felt Abigail staring at him.

“Are you hurt?” He climbed to his feet.

“Of course I’m bloody well hurt. I’m bleeding everywhere.”

He took another look at her wound. It was bad enough to cause a headache but he didn’t think she’d even need stitches. “It’s just a small cut. Do you have any other injuries?”

“I have pain all down my back from that stupid girl.”

Mackenzie glared at her. “She’s dead, you know.”

“Well, she should have put her seat belt on instead of flopping around like a bloody rag doll.” She looked perfectly calm as she said it.

Mackenzie was lost for words, but knew he had to get away from her before he said something nasty. Sidestepping around the hole, he inched to the back and was surprised at how high they were off the ground. It was like they were floating. He couldn’t work it out. He hung his legs over the shattered edge and had to jump to get down.

“Where are you going? Don’t leave me!”

He couldn’t decide if she was demanding or pleading. Either way, he’d already made up his mind. “Outta here.”

“Don’t leave me,” she repeated.

He ducked under the wreck and escaped.

* * *

Abigail touched her forehead again and rubbed the blood between her fingers. Its rich colour surprised her. The last time she’d cut herself was twenty-five years ago. She could still remember staring at it in disbelief, much like she was doing now. Although, there’d been a whole lot more blood that time.

She placed her knee on her chair for support and looked at her husband. His crystal blue eyes stared blankly at the ceiling and no longer had the glimmer that had held her mesmerised in her naive years. She’d loved him once, idolised him as the man of her dreams. The first time she’d seen him, he’d dominated the crowd, full of charisma and everybody’d hung on his words. When their eyes locked, she’d felt like he was reading her mind.

When did it all go wrong?

A stray tear tickled her cheek, but as she flicked it away she realised he wouldn’t have wanted to die any other way. He thrived on being thrown into the jungle with nothing more than a Swiss Army knife and a bottle of water. But she preferred the society pages and a masseuse on demand.

As she twisted her princess-cut diamond ring she imagined his funeral. Hundreds of people would jostle for a key position next to the most influential members in the crowd. His mates would line up to tell humorous anecdotes about Spencer’s adventures. Everybody would want to console her.

As she tried to imagine life without him, her eyes wandered out the hole in the side of the plane. The view was a tangle of harsh, virgin bush, nothing orderly about it. Unlike her life, which was structured, planned and always revolved around Spencer in one way or another.
What am I going to do?

“Jesus, Spencer.” She stared at his unblinking eyes and knew she’d see that image over and over for the rest of her life. “I tried to tell you there was something wrong with the plane.” She thumped his shoulder and turned away when his head rolled to his chest.

Her gaze fell on the body of Madonna. The beautiful reporter was a crumpled mess and Abigail stared at her for a full minute before she saw the bloody metal pole. Her eyes darted from Madonna to Toni to Rodney. She grasped the seat, digging her fingernails into the leather as the cabin began to spin. Her neck hairs bristled and she choked on the smells of fumes, metal and blood.
I have to get out of here.

Her stilettos were useless on the angled floor and she had to hold onto the back of the seats to move. It took her a moment to realise that the tail end of the plane was missing. And it was only then that she remembered Charlie’s fading scream. Now she knew how he fell out. She shuddered at the thought.

She looked down, perplexed that the plane wasn’t even on the ground. As she tried to locate another exit, she realised she was already standing at the lowest spot. Without any other choice, she sat on the floor and, holding onto the back of a seat, stretched her legs downward, closed her eyes and let go. To her surprise she landed safely on her feet.

She walked away from the plane. Its final resting place was a small clearing surrounded by dense bush and towering trees. Slivers of light shone through the leaves like laser beams. Beyond the clearing, debris littered the forest floor, a dark foliage backdrop splattered everywhere with white scraps.

Mackenzie stood in the clearing, arms by his sides, facing skyward, his eyes closed. A beam of sunlight shone directly upon him.

Abigail couldn’t understand why he wasn’t doing something. She folded her arms across her chest and waited for him to open his eyes before she spoke. “What do we do now?”

He jumped, but didn’t respond straight away. After a while he said, “I guess we wait to be rescued.”

“Well, how long will that be?”

He frowned at her. “I don’t know.”

Unlike Spencer who knew everything, she suspected he wouldn’t have any answers. But she persisted anyway. “Just have a guess.”

He turned toward the plane. “Well, they’re expecting us around five, too late to organise a search party, so I guess they’ll start looking for us tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!” She threw her hands in the air. “What are we going to do tonight?”

He scanned the sky and she followed his gaze wondering what he could possibly be looking at. His silence was infuriating.