Poison Bay (7 page)

“What about everyone else?” said Jack.

Callie and Rachel exchanged a glance.
 

Rachel said, “They’re fine.”
 

“There was a debate over the best thing to do. Kain said we should wait, in case the search party missed you coming down as we were going up.”

“Logical, I s’pose,” Adam said.

“But we couldn’t bear to think of you lying there injured or trapped, and no one coming to help,” said Rachel.

“And I figured we’d see enough of your footprints, and you’d most likely come back down the way you went up,” Callie said.
 

“So we agreed to disagree.”
 

“That’s one way of putting it,” said Callie with a pert smile. “But tell us, any luck with the mountain?”

They frowned when they heard the route was impassable, but the disappointment was softened by the avalanche: no one wanted to put themselves in the path of another one.

The atmosphere was a mix of tension and relief when they arrived in camp, but Adam was back on form, and soon smoothed things over with some teasing.

The foraging party had come up with fern tips and seaweed to eat, and it didn’t even taste too bad, Jack thought, if you squinted and imagined you were somewhere nice, like a tropical island or your own veranda at home with a dog and a slobber-covered tennis ball.
 

The seaweed had been Erica’s idea. “Well, the Japanese eat a lot of it.” It didn’t mean every variety was safe, but there were no immediate signs of illness, and the saltiness added seasoning to the ferns.

Kain’s find had been less popular: a tree loaded with tiny dark berries Bryan had recommended to him days earlier as good “bush tucker”. No one was eager to trust Bryan’s menu recommendations, but Kain had grabbed as many as he could carry, and displayed them now to Jack and Adam. The berries stood out on stalks like tiny mutant grapes. Apparently, Bryan had eaten one in front of him. Kain said, “How can they be poisonous if Bryan ate one? I tried one, and I’m okay.”

Jack put a berry in his mouth, afraid to chew too hard. It was bitter and disgusting. When he felt his tongue start to tingle he spat it out instantly, racing to the river to cup water to his mouth, rinsing and spitting until the vile taste was all gone.

But Kain refused to discard his find. He stripped the berries from their stalks and packed them into one of the ubiquitous snap lock plastic bags they all carried. “They’re not ripe yet, that’s all. They might still come in handy.”

Around the fire as the light faded, they discussed the next step.
 

Adam said, “Jack and I talked about it, and we think we should retrace Bryan’s route for a while, then look for a valley branching off to the east that might lead us over the mountains.”

“That huge lake we crossed the first day runs roughly north-south,” added Jack, “and it’s sixty-five kilometers long. If we put the ocean behind us and head east, we hope we’ll eventually hit another part of that lake. Tourist boats should be on it most days. If we start a fire, someone might see the smoke.”

“We’re hoping to find a shorter route than the one we used to get here. We have to find a way east that doesn’t involve cliffs like the one that stopped us today.”

There were questions, but no serious opposition to the plan. Fear of the unknown was outweighed by a unanimous horror of trying to retrace the brutal route by which they’d come.

Kain, however, suggested splitting the group. He argued for leaving the weaker members of the party resting near Poison Bay, with shelter and a share of the cooking equipment, while the others went for help. “Once we reach the outside world, we can send rescuers. And they might be rescued sooner, if a fishing boat comes into the bay.”

Jack responded with a characteristic lack of tact, heightened by his disquiet about Kain’s reluctance to come looking for him earlier that day. “The girls will be in a mess if we leave them here alone. Are you sure you’re not looking for your own best chance to survive, without any liabilities to slow you down?”

Kain’s tone became snaky. “If I was wanting to leave liabilities behind, you’d be top of the list. You can’t even climb one little mountain to save our lives!”

Jack’s face reddened. The taunt hit him hard, because he was afraid it was true. “You didn’t even try to climb it, or to come looking for us! You just stayed nice and safe down here and looked after Number One.”

Kain stepped closer and was drawing breath for another insult, when Adam interjected.

“Shut up, you two!” he demanded. “Can’t you see how this is affecting everyone?” Sharon was staring at the ground. Rachel was weeping quietly. Callie and Erica were looking daggers at both combatants.

Kain shrugged; Jack felt ashamed. “Sorry,” he muttered, and looked at his feet.
From hero to zero in a couple of hours
.

Adam said, “I don’t think we’d be wise to count on accidental rescue. We need to make a decision based on the worst-case scenario, and we need to do it democratically. Let’s vote on it.”

Sharon said, “I’ll do whatever everyone else wants.” She didn’t need Kain’s or Jack’s university education to know what a liability was.

“Yes, me too,” said Rachel.

Both Rachel and Sharon abstained from the vote, but it was conclusive nevertheless. Kain was the only one who wanted to split the party.
 

“And there’s something else,” Adam said. “After the avalanche, Jack recorded a message from me for Sheena, just in case. Telling her where to find the engagement ring, that sort of thing.” He shrugged and cleared his throat. “I thought I’d mention it in case anyone else wanted to do it too.”

Even Jack could tell Adam had dropped a clanger; the timing was wrong. There were murmurs and fidgeting, but Kain was first to speak. “How will that help, if none of us survive to take the video home? Or have we decided Jack will be the last man standing, emerging from the wilderness to win awards for his stupid movie?”

Jack didn’t rise to the bait, but he did answer, because Kain’s logic was flawed. “Actually, I don’t have to survive. Only the camera does, and it’s pretty tough. Searchers would probably find it one day with my stuff.” He copped a glare from Callie.
Oops. Double clanger.

“Can we please stop talking as though we’re going to die?” she said. “We’re all getting out of here. We help each other. We focus on the thought of going home. We get up in the morning and get on with it.”

12

Monday, Two Days Lost

Their packs were laden with fern tips and seaweed as they set off eastwards into the cool early light, leaving Poison Bay behind. The sun had still to emerge over the mountain tops. Today Callie should have been flying home to her little old Sydney flat, and getting herself ready for work tomorrow.
 

North and the El Dorado of Milford Sound had failed, so they were heading east, towards the sunrise and Lake Te Anau. Somewhere out there.

Seaweed would be off the menu once they left the ocean behind. They were unlikely to run out of ferns any time soon, but the crunchy curly tips seemed to be the most palatable, and they weren’t on all ferns at all altitudes, so everyone agreed to gather as many as they could carry when they were easily available. Rachel filled her pockets with them so she could nibble constantly, in an effort to make the most of the sparse carbohydrates they provided.

With the extra distance of another night’s sleep between them and Bryan’s death, everyone’s spirits seemed stronger—everyone other than Sharon. She had drawn Jack aside before they broke camp, to record a message for her son. Callie had tried to talk her out of it, but Rachel had intervened with a fierce look: “Don’t you dare stop her!” Callie had felt rebuked and frustrated.

When they stopped for a midday break, Callie watched Sharon with concern. Her movements were sluggish. She mentioned it quietly to Jack.
 

He said, “She doesn’t complain but I reckon she must be in a lot of pain. Her feet and her back are a mess.”

“She’s in emotional pain as well. She had a crush on Bryan. Did you know?”
 

Jack raised his eyebrows. “I thought it was just the worry about her child. You should have seen what she said to him on the video this morning. The way she tried to look positive and strong for him would break your heart.”

The vexation of the morning resurfaced. “It seems to have broken her heart too. I don’t know why you had to do such a thing.”

“Steady on, Cal. She asked, and I wasn’t going to turn her down. If she doesn’t get home, do you want to be the one to explain to her son why you denied him that piece of his mother?”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason you did it?”

“What do you mean?”

“That video’s going to make a great story.”

“So that’s what you think of me?” He stared at her, and he looked sterner than she’d ever seen him.
 

But she still didn’t stop. “I guess I’m just hoping you haven’t turned into one of those journalists who feast on human suffering. Like carrion.”

He stared at her in silence, then turned away. She felt confused and annoyed. And bereft.

13

Ellen Carpenter woke bathed in sweat, early morning sunlight pouring in the window of her Brisbane bedroom and baking her rumpled sheets. She fumbled for her glasses and looked at her clock radio. Only a couple more hours before she was due to collect Rachel from the airport.
 

The humidity was suffocating, and a nameless dread sat heavily on Ellen’s chest. Her daughter’s flight from Christchurch was already in the air. Was she having a premonition of some disaster?

Probably just a hot flush.
She sat up and shook her head to try to clear the anxiety, dislodging Mango, the ginger cat, from his place of honor on her bed. The dark hair that usually waved softly round her face was plastered to her neck with sweat, and she flicked it with her hands, trying to get some air onto her skin. Mango stalked off down the hall as she trudged to the bathroom with a cooling shower in mind.
 

She thought of how the cat was never allowed on the bed when Roger was alive. A shaft of grief hit her as she got in the shower, and she wept.
Oh Roger, I miss you. Rachel, get home safely.

The weeping was therapeutic, and Ellen was in a much better frame of mind by the time she arrived at the airport. She’d even had a good breakfast, something Roger always insisted on. She saw “LANDED” beside Rachel’s flight number on the airport monitor. Premonitions were nonsense.

Over the next two hours, her relief evaporated, one drop at a time. Time after time, the doors from the Customs area swished open complacently, but no Rachel walked through, only more strangers wheeling luggage-laden trolleys. Again and again, Ellen saw delighted recognition as travelers caught sight of their loved ones. But it was never her turn to wave and call out. At first, she was irritated.
Why are they keeping her so long? I’m going to be late for my two o’clock lecture!
But as the morning dragged on, her students were forgotten.

“I’m sorry madam, your daughter wasn’t on this morning’s flight,” confirmed the airline official. “She probably just missed the plane. Do you have a contact number for her in New Zealand?”
 

Ellen knew it wasn’t sensible to get too frightened about Rachel just yet.
I’ll go home and wait for her to call,
she told herself firmly, even gathering enough presence of mind to phone the university and cancel her afternoon lecture, so she’d be free to collect Rachel from a later flight.
There’s probably already a message waiting for me at home.

There was no message at home.

The New Zealand contact numbers Rachel had left on a neat list yielded no information, just the disturbing news from the youth hostel that Rachel had not checked in last night, nor did she have a reservation. Ellen gave the names of Rachel’s companions. None of them had reservations either, any time this week. It didn’t make sense.

14

They made their way steadily back up the valley they’d descended two days ago. Callie watched Adam, in the lead, search for a stone impressed into the mud here, a broken branch there, to show which way they’d come. Their tracks had been largely erased by the torrential rain.

After he spent an hour leading six people up and down the same section looking for a passable route, Adam called a team meeting. “When we hit the tricky bits, I’d better go on ahead. It’s stupid for us all to be scrambling around and wasting our energy.”

In that moment, Callie realized just how much knowledge of these impossible valleys had died with Bryan. She felt their lostness deep in her bones.
 

Jack had his camera out again during the discussion, and when their eyes met for a moment, she saw no friendship, just cold defiance. She felt even more lost.

Mid-afternoon, Adam stopped and waited for the rest of the group to draw level. They shuffled among mossy tree trunks, slippery rocks and dense undergrowth to find a spot close enough to hear easily.

“Up there,” Adam indicated with his arm through a gap in the tree canopy, “I think we might find a way over into the next valley. What does everyone else think?”

There was a murmur of agreement.

Five minutes later as they headed for this new valley, a bird—fluffy, brownish, the size of a small hen—startled from the ground near Adam’s feet. He reacted quickly, began to run after it, and chaos ruled as others joined the pursuit. The bird was nowhere to be seen, but there were altogether too many hiking boots pounding the ground, thundering under the weight of loaded rucksacks.

Callie shouted, “Stop running! Don’t move.” Her voice carried authority, and they all stopped dead and turned to stare.

“That bird was nesting,” she said.

“So what?” Erica demanded.
 

She ignored her, and addressed the group as a whole, her arms stretched wide. “What do birds do on nests?”

It took a moment or two, but Rachel got it. “They lay eggs!”