An Empty Coast

by Tony Park

  ‘Let me come with you, escort you at least until you get to the border of the Palmwag Conservancy.’

  Sonja didn’t want Stirling tagging along, for a number of reasons.

  ‘I had a quick look under the Land Rover when we pulled up,’ Brand said. ‘Stirling’s right. We’re losing more oil than even a Landy should leak. We took some damage, Sonja. I’d like to have a better look at it before we leave.’

  Sonja was getting impatient. ‘We’ll take extra oil and water and keep topping up. I can’t sit around here twiddling my thumbs while you play mechanic.’

  ‘Two vehicles are always better than one in the bush, you know that, Sonn,’ Stirling said. ‘I can carry extra fuel, water and oil and, if I do say so myself, I’m pretty good with vehicles. My Amarok’s out front; I’m already packed from being out with the rhino scouts, so I can leave now if you want. Maybe let’s all grab a quick shower first.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ Brand said.

  Surrounded by these men, Sonja felt outmanoeuvred. She was used to calling the shots, not following orders – at least she had been before she met Sam. As much as she’d loved Sam she knew that in being with him she had sacrificed some of the control she had always exercised over her own life. She didn’t like other people telling her what to do, even if they were being sensible, but she realised she needed to control her emotions now, and conserve her strength.

  ‘All right,’ she said at last. ‘Stirling, you can come with us if you want to. We’ll all shower up and Brand, you drive the next shift while I get some shut-eye.’

  *

  ‘Emma?’ the voice was low, deep.

  She wasn’t asleep. Her heart started pounding. ‘Go away, Sebastian,’ she hissed through the barrier of ripstop canvas.

  ‘Let me in. Or I’ll blow your tent down.’

  Emma sat up and unzipped the sleeping bag that had also come from Benjie’s stock of camping gear. It smelled of someone else’s sweat, but it was cold in the desert and she welcomed its downy warmth. She was wearing only a shirt and a pair of boy briefs. ‘Sebastian, it’s late.’ Despite her words, she reached over and undid the tent zip, just a little.

  ‘Hi.’ He grinned at her through the gap. ‘Can I come in? It’s bloody freezing out here.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Come on,’ he persisted. ‘We had fun chatting over dinner, didn’t we?’

  ‘That doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with you, Sebastian.’ He had some hide, assuming she would just lie back and open her legs for him. The problem was, however, that she was attracted to him.

  ‘I know. How about we just hang out?’

  Shit, she thought. He was a smooth worker. She would like to kiss him, but she didn’t trust him, or herself for that matter, to keep it at that. She had no protection, in any case. ‘You don’t hang out in a tent.’ The moment of silence between them was interrupted by the noise of another zip nearby opening.

  ‘It’s Sutton,’ Sebastian hissed. ‘He must be getting up to take a piss or something. My tent’s past his. He’ll see me here.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’ Emma got to her knees and quickly undid her zip all the way. Sebastian stumbled in, half tripping over the sill of canvas. He landed next to her and started to giggle. Emma clamped a hand over his mouth. ‘Shut it!’

  She peeked outside and saw Professor Sutton stumbling out of his tent, dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts, his flabby white tummy hanging over his waistband. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Emma took her hand off Sebastian’s mouth, and zipped up again, as quietly as she could.

  ‘That was close,’ he whispered. ‘Fun.’

  It was not funny nearly being caught by the professor. She hardly imagined an old fogey like Sutton would have approved of her becoming involved with Sebastian. However, she couldn’t deny that it was exciting. ‘You can’t stay, Sebastian.’

  He sat up and placed his hand behind her head, wrapping his fingers in her hair. She wanted to tell him to stop, but her throat seemed constricted, as if she’d lost the power of speech. He kissed her and she felt her body melt into his.

  Emma broke from him, and took a breath. ‘I’m not easy, Sebastian.’

  ‘I know that.’ He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, then drew her to him again and lay back, pulling her down on top of him on the sleeping bag.

  She had the power to roll off him, to end it now, but she didn’t want to. She felt his hands on her, running down her back, tracing the curves of her body. She felt his biceps, and ran her fingers through his hair.

  Sebastian lifted his head and kissed her again. His lips were soft, but he moved his hands behind her head and on her back like he was claiming her. She wanted to resist, but at the same time she craved the release of giving in to him, and the heat building inside her body. She met his tongue with hers. He grabbed her bottom and squeezed and Emma moaned.

  She shifted, straddling him and sitting across his groin, feeling his erection pressing against the thin barrier of her pants. As he massaged one of her breasts she reached down, grabbed each of his lapels and ripped them apart. A couple of buttons popped off and one hit her in the belly.

  ‘Wild thing,’ Sebastian said, taking each of her nipples between fingers and thumb.

  ‘I’ve always wanted to do that.’

  ‘I hope you can sew buttons back on,’ he said.

  Emma knocked his hands from her breasts and punched him in the chest. ‘Sexist pig.’

  He laughed and in one quick movement rolled her over so that he was on top of her, pinning her wrists. Emma struggled a little. This was turning her on. ‘Kiss me.’

  ‘Ask nicely,’ he replied.

  She poked her tongue out at him and he relented. As he kissed her, deeply, his hand moved to her pants. She gasped when he touched her; it was like an electric shock the first time, but she forced herself to relax and he found the right spot.

  Emma closed her eyes. She wanted Sebastian, now, but it was Alex’s face she saw above her. She hated herself for feeling guilty, and wanted to be able to just give in to her desire. She had resisted Sebastian’s advances up until now. Sebastian was full of himself, for sure, but his assertiveness and self-assurance were appealing, in a primitive, alpha male kind of way. And he was good with his hands.

  As if sensing she was having second thoughts Sebastian tried a different tack. He took his mouth from hers, kissing her chin, lightly, then made his way down her neck, between her breasts, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down. Emma moved her fingers to Sebastian’s head and grabbed a handful of curls. She moaned again.

  Sebastian didn’t go straight to her, but kissed the inside of her thighs first instead. She found herself getting even more turned on as he began tracing the outline of her through the sheer cotton of her pants. She felt herself getting wetter and was sure he could tell. He drew the fabric up between her lips and started kissing then sucking them. It was driving her wild. Emma grasped his hair and tried to draw him to her clitoris, but he held off.

  He hooked his fingers in the elastic waistband and she lifted her hips, eagerly, as he pulled the flimsy garment down her legs. She opened herself to him and felt incredibly exposed as he moved his mouth back to her. This time he delved into her with the tip of his tongue and she tried but failed to stifle a moan.

  She looked down at him and caught his eye in the pale moonlight. He smiled at her. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he whispered, then returned his attention to her, licking the length of her until he came to her clitoris.

  Emma felt her breath start to quicken as he formed an ‘o’ around her most sensitive spot and drew her into his mouth, sucking on her. At the same time he began touching her. She wanted to cry out, to urge him on, but he needed no direction and she didn’t dare make a sound. My, he’s good. All thoughts of anyone else had left her mind. She was totally focused on Sebastian and what
he was doing to her.

  Emma pushed back onto him, hungry for his touch, for more of him. She wrapped her legs around Sebastian, giving herself over to the waves welling up inside her. ‘Yes,’ she hissed. She raised a hand to her mouth and bit down on it, but couldn’t stop a high-pitched cry from escaping as her body surrendered to his touch.

  ‘Emma? Are you all right?’ Alex called softly from outside her tent.

  Chapter 25

  Emma had awoken in the chilly pre-dawn hour, alone in her tent. She had been angry with herself for letting Sebastian in, and angry with Alex for interrupting them.

  She had told Alex, through the tent canvas, that she was fine, and when he had moved off she had given Sebastian his marching orders. The moment had passed and she’d felt terribly guilty, mortified at what she would have said to Alex if he had caught her and Sebastian having sex.

  Now, as their four-wheel drives churned up and over one sand dune after another, she felt hot and bothered. Sebastian was in front and Alex was on one side of her, Natangwe on the other. None of them was much in the mood for talking.

  ‘I think we should call this search off for the time being,’ Alex said, breaking the silence. ‘We should go to the police in the nearest town, or to the ranger’s post in the Skeleton Coast Park, and report what we’ve found.’

  ‘Yes, we should,’ Sebastian agreed, ‘but we’ve got no phone contact and the nearest police are hundreds of kilometres away. We’ve come this far, we’d be crazy not to push on until we find the aircraft.’

  ‘You are not taking this seriously, Sebastian,’ Alex protested.

  Emma was annoyed at both of them. Sebastian was being his usual flippant, disrespectful self and Alex was finding excuses not to do anything. ‘You’re both right and you’re both wrong, but we may as well keep on going,’ she said.

  They were all hot, tired and sleep deprived after the cold night in the desert. She wanted this trip to be over, but she still wanted to discover the missing aircraft. Emma found, too, that for the first time in a very long time she was missing her mother. She and Sonja had never had a good relationship when she was younger but now, knowing that they should have already been together, she felt an almost physical pain, a kind of longing inside her for her mother.

  ‘It’s all academic anyway,’ Sebastian interjected. ‘Sutton and Horsman are two men on a mission. They’re not going to do anything until we find that aircraft, or run so low on fuel that we have to turn back to the farm for resupplies. I don’t think there’s anything we can do that would convince those two old farts to stop the search.’

  Emma gave a little laugh. Sebastian did have a way of lifting the mood. Alex was checking his GPS and seemed to be cross-referencing it with a map spread across his knees.

  ‘Where are we?’ she asked.

  He checked the device and the map again and placed his finger on an empty patch of Namibia. ‘As far as I can tell we just crossed into the Skeleton Coast National Park. We are breaking the law.’

  ‘Fun, isn’t it,’ Sebastian said from the driver’s seat.

  ‘We’re not likely to bump into anyone,’ Natangwe said. ‘Maybe a few Himba.’

  ‘The professor must know what he’s doing,’ Emma said, feeling less than sure of herself as she uttered the words.

  ‘The professor should know that there is no way he can start digging around in a national park. I’ve had enough of this,’ Alex said. ‘Sebastian, catch up to them. I’m going to talk to Sutton. This is not correct.’

  ‘Stop being so bloody German,’ Sebastian said.

  ‘Sebastian, that’s out of line,’ Emma countered. Things were getting hot inside the vehicle.

  They crested a dune and Sebastian slowed. Sutton and Horsman had stopped a little way down the opposing slope and were out of their vehicle.

  ‘Wow,’ Natangwe said.

  Emma drew a breath and opened the door of the Land Cruiser. The hot air hit her like a shock wave, but she paid no attention to the heat. Below them, in a valley between two dunes, was the tail of an aircraft.

  ‘The Dakota,’ Sebastian said. ‘Woo-hoo!’

  Emma held a hand to her eyes to cut out the sun’s glare and scrutinised the valley. She made out pieces of wreckage, mostly covered with sand, that had created little mounds in the otherwise uniform undulations of the desert. She made out a wing tip, the blade of a propeller, some distance behind the tailplane. It appeared the left wing, or part of it, had come off in the crash.

  Shifting her eyes back to the left she made out a ridge that marked the line of the fuselage; just the top edge of the main body of the aircraft was visible, the bare metal glinting where decades of sand and wind had blasted away whatever paint had been applied to the Dakota.

  Sutton and Horsman were back in their vehicle, driving slowly down to the wreck. ‘Come on, let’s go,’ Sebastian said, climbing back into the Cruiser.

  Emma opened her door, but paused when she saw Alex just standing there, away from the vehicle, making no move to get back inside. ‘Are you going to walk?’

  He said nothing, so she moved around the car to him.

  ‘You two can walk down the hill if you want,’ Sebastian said. He started the engine and leaned into the back to close Emma’s door.

  Emma was excited to find the aircraft, but she was concerned about Alex. ‘What is it?’

  Alex stood there, looking down into the valley. ‘I have a very bad feeling about this, Emma. There is more wrong with this than Sutton and Horsman entering a national park without authorisation. The haste with which this whole operation was organised, the secrecy, it’s just not right. You must feel it as well.’

  She did, but this was not the time to abandon ship. They had beaten what were apparently miraculous odds and found an aircraft that was nearly completely buried in the desert. It was an amazing discovery.

  ‘Too much does not add up,’ Alex continued, fuelling her doubts.

  She started to walk down the hill. ‘You’re overreacting.’

  ‘Am I?’ he asked.

  She stopped and looked over her shoulder. He was standing there, still, at the brow of the dune. Below them the two vehicles were approaching the wreckage, stopping a respectful distance away from the first piece of visible wreckage. Emma could see the others getting out, and Sutton’s impatient red face looking up at them.

  ‘We’re not getting the full story here, Emma.’

  She was torn. ‘So what do you want to do, Alex? We’re stuck out here.’

  ‘I’m going to take one of the vehicles, as Sutton said I could, now. Come with me, Emma.’

  He was overreacting, she told herself again. There was something not quite right, dishonest even, about Horsman, but Sutton, for all his bombast and chauvinism, was a respected academic, not a thief. If there was some sort of treasure on board the Dakota then Horsman might want to take the lion’s share. She wondered who the rightful owners of the cargo would be, so long after the war. In any case, there were too many of them, all witnesses, for Horsman to get away with a major crime.

  ‘Come on, Alex.’ Emma started to walk and looked back up the slope at him. He stood for a moment, hands on hips, seeming to deliberate whether or not to follow her down to the crash site. She was getting impatient now and felt that Alex was being silly. He couldn’t just run away. Emma stopped again. Reluctantly, Alex began to trudge after her.

  Sutton and Horsman had stopped just short of the ridge of bare metal that marked the spine of the aircraft. Emma could see now the sharp bend in the middle which hadn’t been visible from the top of the dune. The fuselage had buckled on impact. She realised, with a mild sense of dread that mixed with the adrenaline coursing through her, that they might find more dead bodies on board.

  ‘We should remember,’ Professor Sutton said, glancing around to make sure they were all in earshot, and reading her mind,
‘that there will most likely be dead men on board this aircraft. As excited as we all are, I think it appropriate we take a minute’s silence before we begin.’

  ‘Quite right,’ Andre said.

  They bowed their heads. Emma looked at Alex out of the corner of her eye and saw that he was not taking part. He was looking back at the two parked four-by-fours.

  ‘Show some respect,’ Sebastian hissed under his breath.

  Alex just glared at him.

  ‘Right,’ Sutton said, looking up and at all of them. ‘Let us begin. For the students, I need hardly remind you that –’

  ‘I’m going to take one of the vehicles,’ Alex said, interrupting him.

  Dorset looked like Alex had just insulted his mother. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You said, Professor, that I could take a vehicle to go check on the carcass of the desert lion. I am taking you up on that offer now.’

  Andre stepped between them. ‘Guys, please. Alex, how about if you just help us for the rest of today, and then maybe head off and check on the lion tomorrow? Would that be OK?’

  Alex glared at Horsman. ‘No, sir, it would not be OK. I am a conservationist, a scientist,’ he shot a glance at Dorset as if to challenge his ethics and credentials, ‘and I object to the way you have illegally entered one of my country’s national parks. You have found your aircraft and now I think the most appropriate thing is for you to report its location to the Namibian national parks authorities. This is what I am also proposing to do when I leave here.’

  Horsman raised his hands in a placatory gesture. ‘Alex, calm down, please. Can’t you understand that there are probably deceased airmen under that sand over there? I have been searching for them for half my life. I can’t rest until I know they’ve been found and given Christian burials.’