The Movie (46 page)

The phone purred in Alex losen’s apartment. Once, twice, and he picked up. ‘tkosen.’

Five thousand miles away, Eleanor thought, and he sounds like he’s in the next room.

‘Alex, it’s Eleanor Marshall. Did I wake you?’

‘Of course not. Eleanor. I’ve been at my desk for an hour already, you know me. But it must be somewhat early in LA, right?’

‘That’s right,’ Eleanor replied,, smiling. Alex was more than a lavcyer; they’d been to Yale together and squabbled bitterly over everything from feminism to Shakespeare for four years. And been close friends ever since. It was good to hear Alex’s voice: gossipy, clever, confident, and at her disposal. And Alex losen was one of the most prominent corporate lawyers in the United States.

‘Then I take it you have a little local trouble you’d like me to help out with. A minor problem at work, perhaps?’

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‘A major problem, Alex. A big, fat, hairy problem that’s going to finish my career if I allow it to.’

‘Oh, good.’ Her friend’s voice was a sigh of satisfaction. ‘Those are the kind I like the best.’

Grant Booth leaned across the polished mahogany surface of his desk, barely containing himselŁ It was all he could do to keep from rubbing his hands with satisfaction, but he managed to restrain himselŁ. Such an attitude of unholy glee would go fight against the sophisticated, reliable image he was trying to project. And Booth, Warwick & Yablans were very big on sophistication and reliability. That was one reason their client was here.

Booth glanced round the air-conditioned comfort of his offices, admiring them. The dark oak panelling. The severe, masculine leather chairs in sombre shades of burgundy’. The antique carriage clock placed atop the equally antique bookcase. Yes, it was quiet, expensive decor, and the finn could afford it because of clients like this one.

‘Let me get this straight, Mrs Kendrick,’ he began, but she held up one hand, cutting him short.

‘No, Mr Booth. Allow me to repeat myselŁ. I want you to be quite clear about my instructions.’

It was a voice used to command, and Grant Booth obeyed it. He sat back. in his chair, attention focused compliantly on Isabelle Kendrick.

‘I wish to find out everything about loxana Felix, the model,’ Isabelle said, calmly and clearly. ‘And I do mean everything. Her parents. Her childhood. Her teenage year. Whom she is sleeping with. Whom she has slept with. Any enemies that she might have made in her modelling career, and the manner in which she made them. In short - everything. You may use whatever methods you wish, as long as you do not break the law. You will keep these instructions, the fact that I am your

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client, and any and all communications between your fm, n and myself in absolute confidence. And you will give me a legally binding written promise to that effect before I leave this office. Money is no object.’

Booth smiled unctuously. ‘I am happy to hear you say so, ma’am.’ He cleared his throat. ‘You are aware that our retainer is fifteen thousand dollars?’

Isabelle looked at him blandly. ‘No, Mr Booth,’ she said. ‘In my case your retainer will be fifty thousand dollars. Plus expenses. And if the investigation is concluded to my satisfaction, there will. be a further hundred thousand to follow.’ She gave him a wintry smile. ‘Everything, Mr Booth. I trust I am making myself clear?’

Grant Booth nodded eagerly. He had a very shrewd idea ‘ of what would constitute ‘satisfaction’ to this lady. She

wanted blood. And for a hundred and fifty thousand dollars his firm would happily see that she got it.

‘Oh, you are, madam,’ he said. ‘Very clear indeed.’

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It was the heat that woke Megan up. The burning, sweltering feeling on the back of her neck was too uncomfortable to let her lie unconscious, and she groaned and blinked, opening her eyes, unsure of exactly what had happened, where she was. The pain in her neck intensified and Megan realized she was lying slumped over a fallen tree trunk, her head rammed against a branch. All around her were fes, uprooted bushes and glistening dark green foliage, bracken and scrub, that had been drenched in the downpour. Millions of insects buzzed and chirped through the undergrowth, their low hum mingling with the constant bubbling calls of the tree flogs. Startled, Megan jerked away as a huge butterfly flew past her, brilliant scarlet wings fluttering jerkily.

She moaned in horror as it all came back to her.

The last thing she remembered was the blanket terror of her sheer fail, clutching onto Zach, then finally crashing through leaves and branches and blacking out. She glanced upwards at the emerald canopy of the mist forest; there was a patch of clear blue sky visible-directly above her, in the midst of the green tangle of palms and bwa rouz trees. The sun had been beating down on her through that hole.

That must be where we fell, Megan thought. Zach! Where’s Zach?

She tried to jump to her feet and immediately fell backwards with a piercing scream. Agony blazed through her, knives of pain lancing into her flesh. Megan glanced

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down and saw her left ankle, twisted and grotesquely swollen, the flesh puffed up and darkly bruised, like a purple plum.

‘Megan[ Megan, are you OK?’

She looked behind her to see zach Mason, his shirt in shreds and his chest bloodied, standing in the shade of a towering palm tree. He looked shaken but otherwise all right. Megan burst into tears with relief.

‘Oh, Jesus, sweetheart,’ Mason said, rushing over to her and clasping her in his arms. ‘You’re in pain. You poor girl. Have you broken something?’

‘No,’ she said, andthen burst into tears Tm all right. I’m so glad to see you, I thought you might be dead.’

He shook his head, stroking her hair with one hand. It , was ridiculous, but she found the movement comforting; she wanted to nestle up against him and believe that this nightmare wasn’t happening, that everything was going to be OK. She forced herself to control her tears and broke away from him.

Zach Mason is hardly my father, Megan reminded herself sternly. And anyway, my father wouldn’t have wasted his time stroking my hair. So less of the weak damsel butlshit-we’re in trouble here, and I have to think clearly if I’.m gonna get out of this alive.

‘Neither of us is dead, thank God. Let’s see if we can keep it that way,’ Zach said. He looked her over, and winced as he saw her ankle. ‘Jesus, you poor kid. Is it broken?’

‘I don’t know. I think it’s just sprained,’ Megan told him. ‘I can’t stand on it.’

Infinitely gently, Zach reached out and touched the

bruised violet flesh. ‘Does that hurt?’

She shook her head.

‘Does that?’ He gave it a soft push.

‘No.’

‘Well, at least that’s something,’ Zach said. ‘Probably

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means you haven’t been infected yet.’ He examined the angle of her foot. ‘It looks real nasty, though. Do you think you might have dislocated it?’

‘What am I, a nurse?’ Megan snapped. ‘How the hell should I know?’

He glanced at her. ‘Hey, I didn’t mean ‘

‘Oh, look, I’m sorry. All right? I shouldn’t have bitten your head off, I know you’re trying to help. It’s just that I’m in pain here.’ She shrugged, and Zach tried not to look at her breasts, clearly outlined under the sodden black cloth of her wet T-shirt. ‘I don’t think it’s dislocated. I guess I’d be lying here screaming if it were. What about you, are you OK? What happened to your chest?’

He touched the dried blood on his skin, dismissing it. ‘Just a few scratches from the fall. Thorns or something.’

‘My God,’ Megan said quietly, gazing around her. ‘It’s a miracle we’re alive.’

Zach hooked his arms under her shoulders and lifted her up, slowly and carefully so that no weight pressed on her hurt ankle, and helped her sit uptight on the trunk of the tree. Megan noticed that her hundred and twenty pounds was nothing to him; Zach’s lean, hard body was evidently pure muscle. Just as well, she thought dryly. We’re going to need all the muscle we can get.

Mason sat next to her, stating at their surroundings. The jungle was alive with sound and movement; they could see nameless small creatures scampering through the undergrowth ahead of them, birds flitting and swooping through the canopy. A brightly coloured pigeon, its.body electric blue with a downy white chest and a crimson crest, plunged through the forest directly in front of them.

‘Pizon Olonde,’ Megan said. ‘The Dutch Pigeon. They

called it that because it uses the colours of the Dutch flag.’ ‘Yeah? Where did you learn that?’ Zach asked her.

‘The guidebook,’ Megan said. ‘I tried to get a little loc.al colour when I wasn’t on the set.’

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‘Did you read anything about the jungle?’

‘Actually, yes,’ Megan said. ‘Three pages. So I can tell you some plants you better not touch. And insects to avoid.’

‘Great,’ Zach said, giving her a smile. ‘Finally something useful from you,’

‘Get lost,’ Megan said, grinning.

‘I got some news for you, babe.’ He waved at the green shadows of the forest, pierced here and there by long, dusty columns of light where shafts of sunlight had managed to pierce through the treetops. ‘We already are.’

‘Apparently so,’ Megan agreed, trying to keep her tone light..

‘Three pages between us and certain death from

poisonous berries,’ Zach said, pushing his long black hair out of his eyes. ‘Well, that’s reassuring. You want to give me a run-through of those insects now?’

‘Take your pick.’ Megan looked at him, and despite their joking she felt the fear start to return. ‘Tarantulas, crazy ants, yellow wasps, wolf spiders, scorpions. And the jungles are home to some of the world’s crack mosquito squadrons.’

‘What’s’ the good news?’ Mason asked her.

‘ Good news? Uh, the snakes aren’t poisonous.’ ‘Terrific,’ Zach said.

‘Plus, I have some insect repellent,’ Megan added, brightening. She fished around in the sodden pockets of her jeans and produced a large tube. ‘I thought I might need it on the mountain.’

‘Now you’re talking,’ Zach said. ‘Any food?’

‘No.’ Megan fought to control the creeping.sense of

panic closing in on her. ‘Zach, what are we going to do? We’re miles from anywhere. You can’t even see the ledge where we fell from hure. They’ll have no idea if we’re right. beneath it, or crushed on the rocks, and even if they do,

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how the hell are they going to find us? There’s no paths into here. We’re totally stranded, and I can’t walk ‘

Her voice began to tremble, and she bit her lip to keep herself from crying.

I won’.t break down in front of Zach, Megan thought fiercely. That’s just what he’d expect me to do. The damsel-in-distress rout/he. And I’m not about to give him the satisfaction.

‘Hey, I’m not going anywhere without you,’ Mason said. ‘Who would tell me what flowers not to touch? I wouldn’t dare.’

‘But you can’t carry me.’

‘Sure I can. I’ve been weight-training for years, since before the first tour. You have to keep in shape if you’re gonna survive three years on the road. It’s tough.’

‘This is tough,’ Megan said, staring into the dense forest. ‘Agreed.’ He fell silent for a few moments, thinking. Then he said, ‘OK, the way I see it we have two options. One is to stay here, hope that we fell somewhere directly beneath that ridge and that they’ll know where to look for us. If we do that, we have to try and figure out ways of making it obvious where we are. It would be nice to light a fire, but’ - he patted the sodden log they were sitting on ‘all the wood is soaked through. Plus I don’t have a lighter or a magnifying, glass and I skipped boy-scout classes, the kind where they teach .you that thing with the two dry sticks.’

Megan laughed. The too.’

‘Pity,’ Mason said, giving her a warm look.

For a second Megan found herself jealous of P,.oxana again. Zach’s thundercloud-grey eyes, his predatory wolf eyes, were suddenly softened, and she couldn’t help

thinking how attractive he was. Get over it, girl. She looked away.

‘So, the other option is to get out of here. We’d have 4o

pick one direction and keep going in a straight line, until we hit a road or something.’

‘That doesn’t sound too scientific.’

‘Look, the whole island is only five miles across. Seventeen north to south. And the jungle’s just one small part of it. We’ll get out soon enough.’

‘Will we? I guess that’s, the sixty-four-dollar question,’ Megan said, looking down at her twisted ankle.

‘Come on, Megan. You’re not giving up on me now, are you?’ Zach asked. ‘Not after all that work on the script. Think of the delay this is going to cause to the shoot. We have to get back, remember? We’re making a movie.’

She !ughed. ‘Oh, sure. Except that I’m rephceable.’ Tm not,’ Zach told her. He stood up and walked over , to the nearest fallen branch, hefting it up and testing its

weight.

‘Don’t be too sure. It’s incredible what they can do with technology now,’ she told him secretly admiring his hard body as he moved, the muscles knotting in his back, the wet cloth of his calkin pants moulded to the rocklike tl-2ckness of his thighs. ‘lLemember The Crow? Starred Brandon Lee, Bruce Lee’s son. Except that he was accidentally shot dead halfway through filming.’

‘No shit?’ Zach asked, throwing one branch onto the grbund. He took a careful look at Megan, then stepped hard on the wood halfway down it, cracking it in two.

‘True story. They finished it with computer morphing. Virtual acting,’ Megan told him. She laughed. ‘Maybe we

could use that for lLoxana’s part.’

‘Good idea,’ Zach said grimly.

‘You shouldn’t trash your girlfriend,’ Megan teased him.

Zach shot her a sharp look. ‘She’s not my girlfriend, honey.’

‘Yeah, right,’ Mgan said, shrugging. She couldn’t be bothered to argue with him.

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‘She’s not. Anyway, you should talk. David Tauber’s little puppy.’