‘Seems to be a lot of guesswork there,’ James questioned.
‘Just telling you how it is.’
‘How what is?’
Anthony smirked slyly. ‘Mark my words, sir, Abbey is going to be just fine.’
‘Somebody mention my name?’
Idling from the jungle Abbey appeared, her white bikini at wonderful odds with her tanning skin. Five sets of eyes homed in on their co-survivor, oblivious to their concern, oblivious to the mutilation in her vicinity.
No gloating, no smirking, Anthony turned and walked back into the jungle to do whatever it was he did in there.
‘Abbey,’ Elaine said, ‘thank goodness you’re okay. We’ve been worried sick.’
‘I’ve been exploring,’ she revealed. ‘I was up early so I just took off. Found that hut you were talking about, James. It’s amazing to think…what’s that?’
Eyes focused on the outline of Gibson’s corpse, Abbey shuddered.
‘We tried to save him,’ said Elaine softy. ‘He was in so much pain, we had to do something.’
Edging forwards Abbey knelt by the pilot and lifted the blanket, a single tear snaking down her cheek. ‘Oh my god…’
‘We did all we could,’ Elaine echoed. ‘We had no drugs, no proper means to treat his injuries. It was inevitable. Even Gibson knew it.’
A second tear followed the first. ‘He didn’t deserve this. My god, what did you people do?’
James stepped forward, his head pounding. ‘What would you have suggested, huh? A nice hot bath? Let me make this clear, Abbey, the man was in so much pain he didn’t know where he was. He was delirious and he was scared. Who the hell are you to judge what we did?’
‘James, I –’
‘We had to make a split-second decision. We had no equipment, no anaesthetics, and you stroll in here now and tell us we should’ve done things differently?’
‘James, please –’
‘Next one’s on you.’ Turning his back on the group, he headed to the shore. Nobody tried to stop him. It had been a long day and he’d been awake less than two hours.
Wading out into the spume, James stared out over the horizon. There had to be something out there that could bring this chaotic morning into clarity. Perhaps another climb to the tor’s peak could shatter the anarchy. He could take Gibson’s transmitter, the man's legacy, try and activate it and build the thing a shelter. Unable to recall seeing it, he wondered where the contraption might be. He began turning over the events of the last twelve hours and continuously, he arrived back at the same answer.
Eric.
43
No more than half an hour after the death of Gibson Sommerfield, two more bombshells rolled through the camp in quick succession. After suspecting Eric of taking the pilot’s transmitter – perhaps for safekeeping, perhaps for some other purpose – James had to approach the situation with kid gloves. Eric could be temperamental and so calm would be his middle name, composure his last.
Back on the sand he could make out Sebastian and the girl at the end of the bay, sitting together on the sand. God only knew how that conversation was going. Abbey was sitting alone by Gibson’s body, her quiet voice masked by the distance.
Passing Elaine, James asked of her son’s whereabouts and she pointed to their tent, the blankets drawn down to obscure the sun. Inside was stifling. Eric was sitting alone at the rear of the tent. Tears lingered in the man’s eyes, the remains of the transmitter in his lap.
‘Eric,’ James muttered, ‘what on earth have you done?’
The big man’s eyes remained focused on the smashed transmitter. ‘Don’t shout at me,’ he said miserably. ‘My dad used to shout at me.’
‘I’m not shouting, Eric,’ he said quietly, edging further into the tent. ‘I’m asking you a question. Why is the radio in pieces?’
‘Why does she like that man?’
James shook his head. ‘You mean Sebastian?’
‘I like her. I want her to be my friend, not his. He’s a bad man.’
James sat back, suddenly interested. ‘What do you mean he’s a bad man?’
Eric failed to explain further.
‘Eric, do you think Sebastian is a bad man because he’s befriended the girl, or for some other reason?’
‘I want her to be my friend,’ Eric repeated, eyes still glued to the useless radio.
‘This is important, Eric,’ James urged. ‘Has something strange happened with Sebastian you need to tell me about?’
‘I don’t like him, that’s all. Nothing wrong with that. I don’t have to like him if I don’t want to.’
‘No you don’t,’ James agreed. ‘But I need to know why last night the transmitter was almost finished, and now it’s in pieces.’
‘Gibson pilot’s dead!’ said Eric.
‘That’s not what I asked you.’
‘He was my friend and he’s dead.’
Taking a pausing breath, James said, ‘What’s going on, Eric?’
‘Soon everybody will be dead. No one will find us and we’ll all die here.’
‘Okay, that’s enough. You wouldn’t want your mom to hear you talking like that.’
The big man paused consciously and went back to the sabotaged transmitter. He almost looked ashamed having betrayed his mother’s faith. Prodding the radio’s components, he seemed confused. They needed that transmitter working and there wasn’t anybody left alive with the genius to repair it.
‘Eric, I’m going to ask you this one time, okay, and I want an honest answer. Did you break Gibson’s radio?’
Pausing to contemplate, Eric’s face revealed nothing. ‘I didn’t break it,’ he muttered.
‘Eric...’
‘I said I didn’t break it.’ No hesitation this time.
‘But it’s in your lap,’ he pressed.
‘So? I didn’t break it.’
‘Then who did?’
Eric wiped his eyes. ‘I want to go back outside.’
‘First tell me who did this,’ James said firmly.
‘I don’t know.’
‘In that case the onus is on you, pal. I don’t know why you’d do something like this, but your mother’s going to be very disappointed.’
James pushed aside the blanket to leave, bright shafts of sunlight flashing through the tent.
‘Wait,’ the big man mumbled.
James glanced back.
‘I didn’t do it. Cross my heart.’
Sitting back down, James said, ‘You understand the importance of promises, Eric? If you make one, it’s vital you keep it.’
‘I do promise.’
‘Then who broke the transmitter?’
‘I swear I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Last night when Gibson Pilot had nearly finished making the radio, I was falling asleep. He didn’t need me no more, so I went to my tent. I was real tired, James.’
‘So how did it end up here?’
‘When I heard Gibson Pilot screaming before, I ran to him before anybody else. I didn’t have good dreams last night. I dreamt I was –’
‘Eric...’
‘…When I got there, the radio was lying next to him like this. I brought it in here to fix it, but I can’t make it work again.’
‘Shit,’ James murmured.
‘I promise, James, it wasn’t me. Do you think Gibson Pilot smashed it himself? Because if he did, he smashed it good.’
Nothing seemed coherent. There was no chance Gibson would’ve stayed up all night building the transmitter and then decide to smash the damn thing. That made no sense at all. Spite wasn’t in the pilot’s toolbox. He believed Eric too. The man just didn’t seem capable of something like this. So who?
He was interrupted by Oli poking his head inside the tent. ‘James, you’d better get out here.’
‘What is it?’
‘Just come take a look.’
‘Kind of have something going on in here, Oli, can’t it wait?’
‘Not really,’ said the student. ‘We
think it’s Teri. You’d better come see.’
44
Jogging alongside Oli, flour-soft grains pushing between his toes, James’s wish for order seemed a million miles away. How naïve he’d been to assume they could simply set up camp and wait for the cavalry. That too seemed far away now, like the blistering shimmer on the horizon. Oli pointed out the others further up the beach. Sebastian and the girl were standing with Elaine around an unidentifiable spot.
‘What is this?’ James asked as he neared.
Nobody replied.
Stepping into the circle, he took a closer look.
‘Nobody’s seen Teri since last night,’ said Oli.
‘So?’ said James casually. ‘Wouldn’t be the first time she’s wandered off.’
Elaine placed a worried hand over her mouth. ‘I think this may be my fault. Goodness, I shouldn’t’ve hit her.’
‘This has nothing to do with you, Elaine.’
‘We assumed she’d gone wandering too,’ Oli explained. ‘Then we found this.’
Dropping to his haunches, James examined the disturbed sand, a thin trail of dark spots leading from fat to thin. ‘What is that?’
‘We think it’s blood,’ Oli confirmed.
‘Somebody cut themselves?’
‘No,’ he said, pointing out the path-like ditch heading to the tree line. It looked as if something had been dragged into the jungle.
‘Okay,’ he said firmly. ‘Here’s what we do. If we’re assuming the blood belongs to Teri, we also need to assume she’s nearby and injured. So we fan out and search. Sebastian, you go to the left, Oli to the right. About a hundred yards over, dip into the trees and head back this way. Elaine, find Abbey, get her over here.’
Elaine hurried away.
‘What about you?’ asked Oli.
‘I’ll head straight in from here. I’ll see you in there.’
Oli nodded to the girl. ‘And her?’
‘I don’t mind taking her,’ Sebastian offered.
James eyed the South African. ‘She comes with me.’
He expected the man to protest. Instead he simply walked away in the direction he’d been instructed.
For a moment, Oli burned a hole into the South African’s back. When he caught James watching him, he turned and headed sheepishly in the opposite direction.
James offered his hand to the girl who took it without uncertainty. Closer to the trees the ground was less disturbed, as if whatever had been dragged had then been picked up.
Hesitant to step further, the girl began dragging her heels.
‘What is it, sweetie?’ Images of the banana grove flooded his head. ‘You don’t need to worry, I’m right here.’
With little more coaxing the girl edged forwards, stepping into the shade of the fronds. ‘Atta-girl,’ he said, holding her hand tight.
No more than ten yards in, the tracks began to fade. In thirty, there were no signs at all that anybody had ever been there. At one-hundred yards the girl abruptly stopped for the second time, cautiously eying the surrounding foliage with big saucepan eyes. Her features softened dramatically when Oli’s voice floated to them from nearby. ‘James? Where you at?’
‘Over here.’
Through the tangle of greenery Oli stepped into sight. ‘Find anything?’
‘Nothing, you?’
‘Nope,’ said the student. ‘She’s got to be here somewhere. This is the same bay as the camp. If somebody’s out there preying on us, he’s got some balls snatching one of us this close.’
Sebastian appeared, stepping tactlessly between James and the girl. ‘Who’s talking about snatching people? You guys losing the plot, or what? We’re on a deserted island.’
‘Then who took Teri?’
‘Nobody took Teri,’ said Sebastian. ‘Do I have to remind you, we were all panicking about Abbey no more than an hour ago?’
‘Something’s not right on this island, I can feel it,' James countered. 'Last night I saw a light in the trees a couple of bays over, and today Teri’s missing and Gibson’s transmitter has been sabotaged.’
Sebastian’s face altered. ‘Sabotaged?’
‘Busted beyond repair.’
‘So Gibson didn’t finish it,’ said Oli.
James shook his head. ‘He finished it. I saw the almost completed thing last night, and it looked a lot healthier than it does now.’
‘Eric?’ Oli suggested.
‘No, I talked with him already. I don’t think he did it.’
‘So what’re you saying?’ Sebastian probed. ‘You think the two incidents are related?’
Looking from Oli to Sebastian, James murmured, ‘I don’t know.’
Behind the group the girl waited patiently, ears pricking at the sound of Abbey’s voice. Moving back into the gathering, she reached out for James’s hand.
*
Abbey examined her fingernails, the blood encrusted beneath them. Earlier, when only she and Elaine had remained, she had insisted they move the pilot’s body to beyond the tree line and out of sight. Nobody wanted that kind of human mutilation in their midst, least of all a confused twelve year old girl. He’d been heavy, but between them they’d managed it – in two goes.
From the trees, James emerged hand-in-hand with the girl. Unexpectedly she stayed by James’s side instead of rushing to her. Close behind was Sebastian and Oli, both looking pissed off.
‘Find anything?’ she asked.
‘Nothing.’
‘What do you mean nothing?’
‘I mean nothing, nada, zip!’
‘Apart from this?’ Abbey muttered, toeing the spots on the sand. ‘So we should expand the search, shouldn't we? A girl doesn’t just vanish, and it’s crazy to assume she’s okay just because we can’t find her in the immediate area.’
‘The size of the job hasn’t altered. This island is a big place.’
‘So what! If Teri is out there, scared and alone, she’s going to be praying somebody comes for her. We owe her that much.’
‘You think we owe her something?’ said Sebastian. ‘How about recalling what the freak is like before we get all sentimental.’
‘How about exercising a little compassion!’
James intervened. ‘Look, if somebody’s taken her, they’re going to hide her. She could be anywhere by now.’
‘So that’s it then,' said Abbey, 'you’re just going to abandon the poor girl? What if it were you out there, James, or you Oli?’
‘I’m not suggesting we should forget about Teri. I’m just saying it’s no good blundering into the jungle and expecting to find her. We need a search plan.’
‘By which time she could be dead.’
James sighed in frustration. ‘I’m just trying to be realistic, Abbey.’
‘Realistic?’
‘Yes, realistic! Jesus, I am sick of the “I’m Abigail and I know best” routine. Maybe, just maybe, you could have a tiny bit of faith in me!’
‘Is that what you expect, all these people to have faith in you, James? You snap your fingers and they jump to it, is that it? Well, come on then, give us something to believe in. Tell us what we should be doing!’
‘We should be talking about Teri and formulating a search plan, not bickering like children. We need to talk about how to look for her, who goes with who, and make sure we don’t cover the same ground. As for the faith, I’m not a robot, I make mistakes just like anybody else, but at least I’m trying, Goddamnit!’
Elaine winced.
Abbey paused. Then, ‘No, it’ll be too late by then. We move now.’
James began laughing at nothing and fell on to the sand. The girl sat down with him. ‘My God, this is insane. She’s probably gone for a walk.’
Abbey shook her head. ‘And the blood?’
‘She cut her foot on a rock,’ he suggested. ‘It happens.’
‘Either way, I’m going to grab some provisions and circle the island. If she’s anywhere near the coastline, you’ll still be talking about
it by the time I find her.’
‘No, we stick together,’ James said.
Abbey noticed the girl slip her hand into James’s. ‘Why? Nothing’s amiss, remember?’
‘You know what, Abbey, go for it,’ he ceded. ‘You’re twisting my words to suit yourself.’
‘I’m a woman, I’m good at that. And yes, I’m going whether you like it or not.’
She eyed James’s face, expecting a sharp reply. Instead, he simply said, ‘I think we should stick together, I’m just going to say that. If you’re adamant about this, make sure you take plenty of water and try to be back before dark, that’s all I ask.’
‘Fine.’
He turned to the girl and placed a hand on her cheek. ‘Come on, sweetie, let’s get you something to eat.’ Climbing to his feet he walked towards the tents, shoulders slumped in defeat. The girl hurried after him.
*
Last night’s campfire smoldered, kicking thin grey smoke into the air. Next to it was the illusive Sol reading a book, American flag bandana pressing down his scraggly blonde locks.
It was unusual for him to be in the camp this time in the day, James noted. Perhaps he was getting lonely.
The girl disappeared into Eric’s tent, her presence undoubtedly welcome. Eric’s fixation with the girl’s friendship was beginning to outweigh Sebastian’s, which James was almost thankful for.
Sitting across the fire, James eyed the Australian silently through the smoke. He was angry with Abbey, but had no clear right to be. There was nothing official about his leadership here, she didn’t have to listen to him. But he wasn’t making up guidelines for the good of his health, and he wasn’t ignoring suggestions from the others either. He was trying to do the right thing, and whether or not that meant a little faith had to be thrown his way, he didn’t think it was too much to ask.
‘You alright?’ he asked Sol.
The standard grunt, eyes rooted to the book.
‘Busy?’
‘What’s it look like, dude?’
‘I don’t know, Sol,’ he sighed. ‘I guess people have forgotten how to converse around here…’
Sol shrugged.
‘So I need your help with something,’ James added. Sol stared as if he’d just asked him to swim for help. ‘You game?’
Hunting Abigail: Fight or Flight? For Abigail, it's both! Page 23
