The Crocodile Nest

by Des Hunt

  Ham stretched and touched Luke’s face.

  ‘Luke!’ he called. ‘Luke, wake up! You’ve got to wake up.’

  Luke stirred. His head came up and his eyes opened.

  ‘Thank God!’ whispered Lora. ‘Oh, thank you, God.’

  Chapter 31

  Luke looked at his father, wondering what he was doing here up a tree. Why was he protesting? He cared nothing about conservation. It wouldn’t worry him if the trees were cut down or not.

  Then the dream gave way to reality. He wasn’t in the Bloomfield forest stopping a highway being built; he was up a tree trying to stay alive. And with that memory came the pain: every part of his body seemed to ache.

  ‘Luke!’ said Ham. ‘Are you all right?’

  Was he all right? Yes, apart from the pain, he probably was. He’d made it through the night, so he must be all right. Although he had no recollection of how that had happened. The last thing he could remember was taking off his sweatshirt and tying himself to the branch.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied softly.

  For a moment Ham looked relieved, before the anxiety returned. ‘Can you reach out your hand?’

  When he moved, Luke became aware of his unstable position. Still, he managed to stretch out his right hand and gripped his father’s. This time Ham’s face showed a deeper emotion. Luke felt tears prick his eyes as he recognized a look he often saw in Alice’s eyes.

  The moment passed quickly, as more urgent things called for attention. ‘OK,’ said Ham. ‘You’re going to have to move forward so that we can take the wrist-to-wrist grip. Then I can take your weight.’

  It took some effort, but now Luke had hope and that seemed to negate the pain. Soon Ham’s wrist was locked on his, giving a sense of more security than the situation allowed.

  ‘Now you have to try and undo the knot,’ said Ham. ‘Don’t worry if you shift a little: I’ve got you. We’re going to get out of this, Luke, but to do that we’ve got to get that knot undone.’

  Luke reached to the knot with his hand. It was incredibly tight. How had he manage to tie it so tightly? Or had it tightened as he slipped around the branch? Either way, it was far too tight for him to undo with one hand.

  ‘I can’t!’ he cried.

  ‘It’s OK,’ said Ham, ‘it’s OK. We’ll try another way. I’ll cut it.’

  Luke watched as his father pulled his hunting knife from its sheath and stretched out towards the knot. The point of the knife just reached it, but not with enough force to do anything.

  ‘See if you can slide forward,’ said Ham. ‘That’ll bring the knot closer.’

  It did—almost enough for Ham to make a cut. Luke sensed the branch bending as Ham strained to reach. It was bending too much.

  ‘Stop!’ he yelled.

  But it was too late. The branch was already creaking. Ham pulled back, dropping the knife. Still the branch creaked. Next came a loud crack as it snapped. It twisted down to slam into the trunk, almost trapping Luke’s leg. Then it eased back to swing back and forth, as if deciding whether to fall all the way to the ground or not.

  For a moment it seemed as though Ham would be able to hold both Luke and the branch. That was until another crack from the branch created too much pressure. Their hands parted. Now there was nothing to hold the branch, and Luke felt himself falling and unable to do anything to stop it. He braced himself for the impact that must surely be the end.

  But no impact came. Instead, there was a mighty tearing sound as the falling slowed. Then it stopped altogether. Luke was left dangling on the branch, just a touch short of the ground. He looked up and saw that the branch was still attached. Instead of snapping cleanly it had ripped into the trunk, shredding the timber into a woody rope. A rope that had saved him.

  Higher up, Ham was clambering down like a bear. He’d almost made it to the ground when a loud whacking sound made Luke think that the branch had finally snapped.

  It hadn’t. The sound came again. Whack! Whack! Whack!

  Then a voice swore. It sounded like Andy.

  ‘She’s coming! I can’t hold her anymore.’ It was Andy.

  ‘She?’ said Luke. ‘Who’s she?’ Then it came to him: Crazy Hazel! That’s who ‘she’ would be. That’s why he’d tied himself up a tree. To escape the crazy crocodile. And now he was dangling right where she had stood with her open mouth, hoping for him to drop.

  Ham was down and searching amongst the roots for the knife when Andy called out again.

  ‘Get out of there quick!’ he yelled from much closer than before. Whack! Whack!

  Now Ham had the knife. He put an arm around Luke and sliced through a sleeve of the sweatshirt. Next he stepped away from the roots, lowering Luke to the ground, where he collapsed in a heap.

  ‘I can’t walk!’ he cried. ‘I can’t even stand.’

  ‘Ham!’ screamed Andy.

  Luke looked up—and there was Crazy Hazel rushing towards them. He remembered that she’d looked real mean when he’d seen her earlier, but now seeing her from ground level she was absolutely terrifying.

  Ham stepped between her and Luke, with his knife in front, ready to protect them. Hazel slowed to a crawl, uncertain of the situation. Instead of moving back, Ham took a step towards her, moving his arm to one side, the knife held high.

  Behind Hazel, Andy was scrambling through the bushes with his stick. ‘Not the knife!’ he yelled. ‘She’ll tear you to shreds if you get close.’ He burst through into the little clearing. ‘Use this.’ He held up the stick.

  Ham continued moving as if he hadn’t heard. Luke saw that he was planning to knife Hazel the same as he would a pig. Hazel had stopped with her head to one side and was watching him closely. Ham seemed unaware of any danger. He stepped forward, getting ready to leap.

  Andy called out again. ‘Ham! No!’

  He was ignored.

  Luke stretched an arm out towards his father. ‘Don’t, Dad!’ he cried. ‘Please don’t!’

  That had some effect, for Ham blinked and stopped.

  ‘Step back,’ said Andy, quietly.

  Ham did.

  ‘OK, now catch this.’ Andy moved forward and lobbed the stick over Hazel, who was beginning to creep forward again.

  Ham caught it with his free hand, sheathed the knife, and swapped the stick to his right hand. Then he turned towards Hazel, who was now just steps away.

  ‘Whack her on the snout,’ said Andy. ‘Not too hard, but.’

  Thud! Hazel stopped and lifted her snout into the air, as if looking to see what had dropped from above. Seeing nothing, she lowered her head to look at Ham and Luke. Now she was even more unsure about things.

  ‘Whack her again,’ urged Andy, ‘and then start moving.’

  Thud! Again her snout went up. Ham spun around, picked up Luke, and took off.

  ‘Bring the boat in, Lora!’ he yelled. ‘Quick!’

  They crashed through the undergrowth, with Luke’s feet dragging uselessly on the ground. It took only seconds to get to the shore. Lora had run the boat up so that the bow was level with the top of the bank. Ham stepped onto it, dragging Luke with him. The motor roared as Lora tried to reverse back into the water.

  Nothing budged.

  Luke looked up: Hazel had followed them and was now less than a metre away. Her mouth was open in the warning position; her eyes fired with anger. Something had really upset her.

  ‘You’ll have to move back!’ yelled Lora. ‘There’s too much weight up front.’

  Ham lifted Luke and dumped him over the windscreen onto a seat. Then he took the more conventional route along the side. The motor roared again. This noise must have been what was upsetting Hazel, for she lunged forward to attack the boat. Her mouth opened as she threw herself at the departing bow. There was a crunch as her jaws hit the gunwale and closed, digging deep into the plastic.

  Lora already had the boat moving backwards, and now the crocodile was being dragged with it. As they moved further from the shore, the bow dipped with
the extra weight, but on full throttle the motor had enough power to drag them free.

  Soon they were off the bottom and Lora was able to throttle back to an idle. Hazel still dangled from the front. Her lower jaw had chomped a hole through the hull.

  ‘What do I do now?’ cried Lora.

  ‘I think she’s stuck,’ said Ham.

  ‘Bash her on the snout again!’ Andy yelled. He was standing on the bank where Hazel had stood just a moment before.

  The problem was that the stick had been lost in the rush to get aboard.

  Luke’s eyes searched for something they might use. ‘There!’ he said, pointing towards the stern. ‘There’s a boat hook.’ Soon Ham had it in his hands and was clambering towards Hazel.

  Thud! This time much louder than earlier. Hazel’s jaw snapped open in shock. For an instant she hung from her lower jaw, before that too came free and she dropped into the water. The boat lifted to rock in the waves created by the fall.

  Luke leant over so that he could see where she had gone. For a while there was nothing but swirling water. Then her snout appeared, followed by her eyes. She stared at Luke with a look of confusion before flicking her tail and gliding away towards her slide onto the island.

  ‘Goodbye, Hazel,’ said Luke, quietly. ‘Go look after your nest.’

  He felt no anger towards her; it was more like respect. He’d entered her space and she’d tried to protect it—that was the way of Nature. Now that he was safe, he was rather pleased that he’d got the chance to meet her. Probably he was the only person in the world to have spent the night sleeping with a crazy crocodile.

  Andy was back on board and they were cruising towards the shore of the creek. It had been easy picking him up while Hazel was still swimming back to the island. He’d even managed to retrieve his stick.

  Luke was beginning to feel some life coming back into his legs. His body was still sore, but there was nothing that wouldn’t repair itself after a time of rest. Cautiously, he tried getting to his feet. It worked! He could stand, so long as he held onto the back of the seat.

  Lora turned and saw him standing. She gave him a big smile that set his emotions soaring. Andy saw what was happening and took the wheel from her. She went over to Luke, taking him in a hug.

  ‘Sorry, Luke,’ she whispered into his ear. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Not coming last night: I thought you’d stood me up.’

  He pulled her closer. ‘It doesn’t matter. You’re here now.’

  ‘You two finished there yet?’ said Andy. ‘I need to put this thing ashore. I don’t want to tip you lovebirds over the side.’

  ‘Lora’s finished,’ said Ham. ‘Now it’s my turn.’

  Lora moved away so that Ham could move in to hug his son. He did so, long and hard. It was like when they had touched in the tree: Luke now knew he had a father—one who cared for him.

  When they parted, Andy took the boat into the place where Chizza had climbed ashore. To Luke that seemed like aeons ago, yet it had been barely twelve hours before.

  ‘Are you going to rescue Chizza?’ he asked.

  ‘He’s already been rescued,’ said Ham. ‘Beth’s with him.’

  ‘Beth’s here, too?’

  Ham smiled. ‘Yep! The whole gang’s here. Ellie would’ve been too, except her job was to call the police. It shouldn’t be too long before they’re here as well.’

  Chizza was lying on the ground with his feet raised and resting on a log. They were heavily bandaged.

  Luke was surprised that Chizza’s legs seemed untouched. The trousers had been cut back, but there were no signs of teeth marks or cuts. It seemed the man had been very lucky that the crocodile hadn’t attacked higher up his body.

  Beth rose from her place under a tree as they approached, and went straight up to Luke and swallowed him in a big hug. ‘I was so worried about you,’ she said. ‘I was stuck here thinking all sorts of things. But you’re all right. I’m so pleased.’ She pushed him back a little to look him up and down. ‘You are all right, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m OK.’ He nodded towards Chizza. ‘Better than him, anyway.’

  ‘Oh, him!’ snorted Beth. ‘He’ll survive—unfortunately!’

  Chizza snarled at her. Clearly something had passed between these two while the others had been on the island.

  ‘How clean are the wounds?’ asked Andy. ‘Croc bites have a habit of going rotten very quickly.’

  ‘They’re not crocodile bites,’ said Beth.

  Chizza snarled again. ‘What do you know, woman?’

  Beth turned to him, jutting her head out. ‘I was a nurse once, and I’ve seen both animal bites and bullet wounds,’ she snapped. ‘And what you’ve got down there are bullet wounds.’

  ‘Bullet wounds!’ said the others in unison.

  ‘Yes!’ replied Beth. ‘Two in one foot, and three through the other.’

  ‘Are not!’ said Chizza, but his voice lacked conviction.

  ‘Are so! And serves you right for stealing my money.’ Beth was obviously getting some satisfaction out of Chizza’s injuries.

  Suddenly Andy burst out laughing. He stepped forward until he towered over Chizza. ‘So, Cheeta, you finally shot yourself,’ he said. ‘How’s that for bush justice? If you go around shooting at anything that moves, sooner or later you’ll end up shooting your own feet.’ He roared with laughter again, his tall frame shaking with mirth.

  Luke didn’t laugh: his body was still too sore for that. But inside he was greatly amused. Yes, it was justice. Justice for all the animals that Chizza had shot; justice for Spock; and justice for the hundreds of people Chizza had swindled through his scams. If he hadn’t shot himself, he would have been able to walk ashore, get in his truck and make his escape. Chances were he would have got away and never been caught. But now, he was going to experience the full force of international justice. And all because he had mistaken a log for a crocodile. Now, what sort of fool would do something like that?

  Chapter 32

  It wasn’t until Luke woke at noon the day after being rescued that he felt the whole thing was finally over. He’d slept for sixteen hours with only a couple of breaks for a pee. He knew that people had been in to check on him, but he couldn’t say when or who. He did know that the sleep had done wonders. He’d gone to bed feeling stiff and sore; now he felt fine, with just a hint of tightness if he stretched too much.

  Instead of going to The Nest where he guessed people would be waiting for him, he headed into the jungle to collect his thoughts for a while. Sitting on top of the bush chooks’ nest was as good a place to think as anywhere, seeing the birds weren’t using it anymore. He hadn’t seen them for two days. They certainly hadn’t been around the day before, when he’d brought the police to recover the DVDs.

  What a day that had been!

  The police had arrived at the creek shortly after Luke’s rescue. Then an ambulance had come to take Chizza away. For a while the paramedics had wanted to take Luke as well, but after a full examination they decided he’d survive without treatment. As a result, Luke spent most of the day helping the police with their enquiries. The DVDs were recovered, computers were removed, and staff were interviewed.

  Then Chizza’s truck was recovered. The trail bikers had gone up the Bloomfield Track. They’d got about halfway to Wujal Wujal when they ran off the road, crashing down into a gully. Both of them were injured, and they could have died there if an alert tourist hadn’t spotted them. Now they were in hospital with Chizza. Luke almost wished he could be there when they told the man what had happened to his magnificent truck: Chizza would not be pleased.

  His vehicle had proved to contain a goldmine of incriminating evidence. Not only did the letters provide the addresses of many of Chizza’s mules, the boxes on the back were full of bank and telephone records. From them the police hoped to piece together a history of his scams. It looked as though they went back to when Chizza had first arrived in A
ustralia. The amount of money involved was likely to be in the millions. By the time Luke went to bed that night, the police had already passed much of the information on to Interpol. It looked like a worldwide skimming and phishing network would soon be busted.

  Luke sat with his feet in the crater, thinking about the night in the tree. It didn’t seem so bad now that it was all over. And he was pleased that he’d got to see Crazy Hazel. In fact he was starting to feel some affection for the old girl: she was only doing what her instincts told her to do. There were a couple of times when she could have attacked him, and yet she’d chosen to give him a warning instead. Maybe she wasn’t so crazy after all.

  As he was thinking about this, the dirt started moving between his feet. He stared at it for a moment before realizing what was happening. Something was digging its way out.

  Soon a head popped out of the dust. It was a chick. Immediately it took in a lungful of air, which was then exhaled with a sigh of satisfaction. Next, it gave a mighty shove upwards, clearing itself from the dirt. A couple of shakes and it was clean. Finally, it climbed the wall of the crater, slid down the outside, and wandered off into the jungle.

  Luke had read that the chicks were left to fend for themselves, but it was a shock to think that such a tiny thing would get no help whatsoever. The parents expended their energy in making sure the eggs were fertile and incubated properly: caring for them after that was not part of their job.

  Much like some human parents, thought Luke. Certainly, his father came into that category. He hadn’t even hung around for the incubation! However, all that was in the past. The Hamish Sloss who had rescued him from up the tree was ready to have a son. And the son was ready to have a father. Not just one who was a name to go on a birth certificate, but one who cared and would do more than let his son cope with the dangers of the jungle by himself.