Flight of the Fantail

by Steph Matuku

  ‘I just like reading, that’s all. My mum, she used to be a librarian and – oof!’

  Idelle sank a vicious kick into Theo’s midriff, and he doubled up, retching.

  ‘Murder mysteries,’ she spat as she walked off. ‘Tell you what – if there is a murder, there won’t be any mystery about it.’

  13

  Griff McKenzie’s white T-shirt and tropical print shorts appeared completely out of place in the solemn grey and cream surrounds of the Seddon Corporation executive boardroom. The men and women clustered around the boardroom table made no comment about his appearance. He was the CEO. He could have worn a Santa suit with reindeer horns and nobody would have given him anything but the utmost deference and respect. Besides, it was supposed to be the first day of his annual fishing trip. They didn’t want to remind him that he was missing it.

  The map of mountainous terrain projected onto a whiteboard screen on one wall was marked with dots, crosses and swirling lines that would have been incomprehensible to an outsider. Computer screens flashed up images of wavy lines that looked like abstract mountain ranges. Everyone in the room was talking at once. The phones hadn’t stopped ringing.

  Griff reached for a pitcher of water and poured another glass. A bristly growth already stubbled his face, and his eyes were red from lack of sleep.

  ‘Recap,’ he barked. ‘Where are we at?’

  The room fell silent. A woman with long mahogany coloured hair got to her feet and tapped at her tablet screen.

  ‘It’s been confirmed that the students from Kōtuku High haven’t made it to their destination in the national park. That’s just over thirty hours without contact with any of them. If you look here ...’ She crossed to the whiteboard and took up an electronic pointer, indicating an area on the map heavily marked with contour lines. ‘It’s a distinct possibility they may have strayed out of government land and into Seddon territory.’

  She locked eyes with Griff. ‘The other cause for concern is there was an earthquake twenty-eight hours ago. Just a minor one, fifteen kilometres under, barely registering a two on the Richter scale, but it was enough.’

  Griff swore under his breath. The timing really couldn’t be worse.

  Another executive looked puzzled. ‘Enough for what?’ He was newly promoted and didn’t know everything. He didn’t need to.

  The woman hesitated and cast a sidelong look at Griff, who nodded for her to continue.

  ‘The whole of Zone 12 is built on plates of tokatanium and terrascios. Very unstable. The mineral compounds in the earth cause all kinds of electrical disturbances, which could be why we haven’t had any mobile phone contact.’

  ‘Or a lack of signal coverage,’ said Griff.

  ‘Yes. However, our tokatanium-wave readings are now registering 2.5 when they’re usually around 1.1. They’ve been triggered by the quake. We’re not sure how this will hamper the search, but–’

  Another man interrupted. ‘Search and Rescue aren’t happy about being kept out of the Zone.’

  ‘Too bad,’ Griff barked. ‘We know every last inch of it, we’re familiar with the terrain, we’re fully prepared and equipped to monitor the situation. It’s safer for everyone if we go and effect the rescue ourselves. Besides, the kids might not even be there. S and R can go and search their own backyard. We’ll take care of ours.’

  ‘What about Kane Worthington? He’ll want to be there. His son was on that bus.’

  ‘He’s agreed to help manage resources in Zone 10 until we know more.’

  ‘Is it worth sending a couple of choppers in for a quick recce?’ said someone. ‘Zone 12 is known for screwing up machinery at the best of times, but with the quake …’

  ‘Send them in,’ Griff said without hesitation. ‘We won’t know for sure what’s happening until it happens. We can afford to lose a couple of helicopters. What we can’t afford to lose is time.’

  ‘I’ll get on to the press,’ someone said helpfully.

  ‘And someone needs to liaise with the families,’ Griff said. ‘Keep them informed. Let them and the rest of the country know that Seddon Corp is going to do all it can to bring those kids home.’

  There was a burst of scattered applause, and everyone collected up their papers and filed out the door. The woman with mahogany hair cast Griff another sidelong look as she left.

  Griff sank onto a chair and stared at the map. The coloured lines swirled under his tired gaze. The kids were out there. Somewhere.

  14

  Jahmin and Liam clambered uphill through the thick undergrowth, all the while listening out for the river to guide them in the right direction. Between the bush and the river was a swamp, thick with reeds and mozzies. The bush, although hard work, was a lot better than being eaten alive.

  Liam heard Jahmin call out to him a few times to slow down, but he ploughed on regardless. If he concentrated on moving his legs, maybe he wouldn’t have to think about anything else.

  He crashed through a grove of nīkau palms, came out the other side and paused. His breathing was ragged and harsh, and he could feel his pulse beating in his eardrums. The birds had fallen silent. After a minute or so, he retraced his steps a little.

  ‘Jahmin?’ he called, once, twice. He cocked his head. What was that? He squinted through the palms, but the breeze was making the leaves rustle and sway, and it was impossible to tell if anything was there.

  But what would be there? Liam pressed his back against a tree trunk, wanting the security of something solid behind him. Possums? No, nocturnal. A pig, maybe. Lion? Whatever. Dinosaur? Zombie?

  There it was again. Liam held his breath, straining to hear. A deliberate, soft crunching; slow footsteps on dead leaves. Something was there … something that didn’t want to be seen … something sneaking up on him.

  A hand came down on his arm, and he jerked round. ‘Goddammit!’

  ‘Whoa, bro.’ Jahmin backed away, hands raised. ‘Just jokes. I got stuck in a tree, look.’ He showed Liam the spiky stick woven into his ginger hair. ‘By the time I’d snapped it off, you’d gone.’

  Liam put a palm to his chest and felt the sharp tattoo of his heartbeat. ‘There’s something out there, man. I’m telling you!’

  ‘Yeah, me,’ Jahmin said, frowning.

  ‘No, over there, I think …’

  He frowned, unsure. A little fantail flitted down through the kaleidoscope of lacy fern fronds and perched on a branch nearby. It tilted its head, eyeing the boys with one knowing black eye and then the other, its distinctive brown and white tail flipping back and forth, echoing the shifting shadows of light and dark among the trees.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

  Liam bent over at the waist, wheezing, hands on his hips.

  ‘Yeah, nah – it’s …’ He caught his breath, forced himself to slow it down. Easy now. ‘It’s just that ... heart thing of mine, remember? Gets a bit full on sometimes. And I lost my pills.’

  ‘Shit, I forgot about that. You’re not going to kark it on me or anything, are you?’

  Jahmin helped Liam to sit. After a few moments, his breathing eased.

  ‘Nah. I’ll be sweet. I’m supposed to be chucking them in a couple of months anyway.’

  Liam got to his feet, laughing off Jahmin’s concerned expression. ‘It’s all good, man.’ He unhooked the branch woven into Jahmin’s hair and tossed it into the ferns. ‘We’d better get going.’

  ‘Just don’t go so fast this time.’

  ‘What’s the matter, man? Fancy sneakers can’t keep up?’

  ‘Whatever. I meant, because of your dodgy heart.’

  ‘Lead the way, then.’

  ‘So your bush monster can eat me first, right?’

  Liam tried to smile. ‘That’s the one.’

  They pushed on through the bush, passing beside a curtain of vines obscuring a recess in a bank.

  ‘I s’pose that’s the first rule of the jungle though, right?’ said Jahmin.

  ‘What is?’
/>   ‘Survival, bro.’

  Liam thought of Eugene. Survival. That’s what it was. His survival over Eugene’s. A life for a life. Manslaughter or murder?

  Without thinking, he quickened his pace. Jahmin had to pull him back.

  15

  The sound of rock rasping on wood irritated Eva beyond belief.

  ‘Give it a rest, would you?’ she hissed at Devin, with a defiant glance at Rocky, but Rocky didn’t react. He looked like he was asleep.

  Lost in thought, Devin was scraping the end of a long stick with a jagged rock. She started as Eva spoke, and the scraping slowed for a second before she pressed her lips together and resumed as before.

  ‘I can’t,’ she replied shortly. ‘Not if we want to eat something.’

  Eva began to object but then closed her mouth again. Suddenly, it didn’t seem worth fighting over.

  Devin’s expression softened. ‘Do you want a go?’

  Not knowing why exactly, Eva slowly reached out and took the stick. She copied Devin’s movement, rubbing the rock back and forth, watching the fibres of the wood split and shred and little specks of sawdust drift down onto the gravel. The noise wasn’t so annoying when she was the one who was making it.

  ‘Are you really going to catch a fish with this?’ said Eva.

  ‘I hope so. But I can’t figure out how to make it so the fish won’t just slip off.’

  ‘Don’t ask me. My fish usually comes already wrapped, with chips.’

  A blowfly buzzed by Eva’s face and she waved it off. It landed on the little pile of spiky white bones at the water’s edge. ‘You know, that eel wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.’

  ‘No, it’s nice. Could be worse. Like those football players in the Andes.’ Devin screwed up her nose and shuddered.

  Eva knew the ones. They’d eaten everything on their crashed aircraft – including the leather seats – and then they’d eaten each other. She smiled at the look of disgust on Devin’s face and then frowned. It just didn’t seem right, sitting here, smiling, when Mandy ... oh, Mandy ...

  Devin cleared her throat, distracting Eva from her thoughts.

  ‘I just thought I’d give fishing a go cos it’s kind of scary catching an eel with your hands. I thought it was going to bite me.’

  Eva nodded, blinking back her tears, proud that this time they hadn’t spilled over. Devin must’ve seen she was about to lose it. Eva felt a vague sense of appreciation to Devin for helping her through it. She decided to be generous.

  ‘Fair enough. I couldn’t do it. I can’t believe you did it. It’s pretty amazing.’

  Clearly pleased, Devin ducked her head and flexed her reddened fingers.

  Eva studied Devin surreptitiously as Devin began sorting through the pile of driftwood. Poor Devin, with her scraggly hair and chapped lips, her cheap clothes and funny mannerisms, the way she blushed at everything, her ungroomed eyebrows always creased in a little frown, as though she hadn’t understood a word that was being said. And then Devin pounced on a piece she needed, hoisting the stick in quiet triumph, her smile bright, and Eva felt as though she was suddenly seeing someone entirely different. It was unnerving. It was liberating.

  ‘Maybe I should make another spear?’ Devin said. ‘In case I lose this one. Or we could have one each, if you want.’

  ‘Okay. Good idea.’

  A movement from Rocky caught Eva’s attention, and she glanced over at him. He was awake, and he had the tiniest grin on his face. Eva snarled at him, and he laughed out loud.

  ‘Oh, shut up,’ she said. ‘Can’t I be nice for a change?’

  ‘Yes, but for how long?’ Rocky was under no illusion about Eva.

  He sat up slowly, and gingerly lifted the flap of sweatshirt fabric that was protecting his wound. Devin had done a good job. Her stitches were neat and even, considering Rocky had been thrashing around like the eel they’d just scoffed. She’d covered the wound with a lavish smear of antiseptic ointment, but the flesh was still swollen and puffy.

  He wondered about gangrene. Was gangrene green? He’d had a tetanus shot the previous year when he’d stood on a rusty nail. How long did a tetanus jab last for? And did it fight gangrene? Or were you supposed to have a gangrene shot? What the hell was gangrene, anyway? Was it green? Never mind the end of rugby season and rep trials, what if it was really munted? What if it had to be cut off? He wished he had something to smoke. It might give him the munchies, but at least it would take his mind off his leg.

  Eva grimaced. ‘It looks horrible.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s not too flash.’

  ‘Have you tried walking on it?’

  Rocky snorted. ‘No. And I’m busting.’

  ‘I’ll help.’

  Getting onto his feet was laborious and painful, but once he was up, he was able to hop around the driftwood pile, using a piece of wood for balance.

  Eva was about to get back to sharpening the point of her spear when she noticed Devin at the water’s edge, watching Rocky with something that looked a little more than just concern. Well, well. If she wasn’t mistaken, Devin was beginning to develop a full-size crush on Rocky. Along with everyone else. All the straight girls at school thought he was gorgeous. He hadn’t gone out with any of them, though. Everyone knew he had a girlfriend at one of the Richie Rich schools, a part-time model, actress, cheerleader or something. One of those types. If anyone deserved a girlfriend like that, it was Rocky. Mr Māori All Star. Mr Popular. Mr Sporty. Mr Great Looking. Devin didn’t stand a chance.

  A shadow fell across her, bringing up a rash of goose pimples. She glanced up. Just a random cloud. Big, though. And in the distance, more. Darker.

  ‘Devin?’ Eva called. ‘You don’t think it’s going to rain, do you?’

  Devin glanced upward and stood, dripping wet rock in one hand, spear in the other. With her tangled hair, torn sweatshirt and dirty grey trackpants rolled up to the knees, she looked like the archetypical castaway, which, Eva reminded herself, she was. They all were.

  ‘Yeah, it might. We’d better try and make a shelter or something.’

  Devin dropped her rock and forced the spear upright into the gravel.

  ‘With what?’ Eva looked around at their little beach. ‘It’s just sticks. Mangy old flax. Rocks.’

  ‘Maybe if we build a wall? Out of rocks? And then we can layer sticks across, balance them on that ledge.’

  ‘Won’t the rain come through?’

  ‘Probably. It’s a start, though. We’ll stick them crossways and then longways and tie them up with flax. Then we can cover it all with ferns from the stream, maybe? If it’s tilted a bit, the rain might just run off.’

  Eva shivered. ‘I don’t want to get in the water to get ferns. I’ve had enough of water to last me a bloody lifetime.’

  Devin shrugged. ‘No choice, really.’

  Rocky hobbled back around the corner, leaning heavily on his makeshift crutch. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘It’s going to rain.’ Eva said bluntly.

  Rocky groaned.

  Devin broke the gloomy silence with a brisk double handclap as though she was one of the teachers at school.

  ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Chop chop, work to do. Walls, roof, let’s go.’

  She hefted a large rock and staggered over to the cliff to drop it into place.

  Amused, Eva raised an eyebrow at Rocky. ‘Get her, ay? One measly eel and a bit of the old Florence Nightingale and now she’s the boss.’

  ‘You heard the lady,’ Rocky said. ‘Let’s go.’

  16

  Theo poked disconsolately at the only phone he could reach. It was an old Nokia, battered and chipped, the kind of phone that only made calls. It was so ancient he suspected it was Mrs Harlow’s. The numbers had been rubbed off the buttons with years of use, but the weight of it in his hand felt friendly and satisfying. He shook it, took out the battery, replaced it. He couldn’t understand why it wasn’t working, why nothing was working.

  Idelle was spra
wled a few metres away in the shade cast by her newly erected tent, a bag of potato chips in her hand. Theo watched as she melodramatically rustled the bag, dropped a few chips into her mouth, and licked her fingers.

  ‘Mmmm. Yum. Want some?’

  Theo’s stomach gave a loud rumble. ‘Please.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Idelle said, getting to her feet. ‘I’m not sure if you deserve any.’

  She stepped lightly towards him, eating another handful of chips. When she reached his side, she upended the bag, scattering crumbs onto his lap, and let it flutter down. ‘Oh dear. All gone.’

  Theo exploded. ‘Don’t be such a cow!’

  Idelle’s pretty face didn’t lose its mocking smile as she bent towards him, her arm raised, her hand open. Theo’s hands flew up to protect his head wound, newly bound with someone’s red scarf. But it was a feint. Idelle pulled back and casually smoothed her hair.

  ‘If you call me names again, Geek, I’ll make you very sorry. But you are, aren’t you? Sorry?’

  There was silence. Then Theo spoke, hating her, hating himself. ‘Sorry.’

  Idelle reached into her pocket, drew out a bent chocolate bar that had half melted in the heat, and threw it at him. ‘Good little Geek. Here you go. Don’t say I don’t look after you.’

  Theo tore the wrapper off and thrust the bar in his mouth, afraid she might just take it back. He sucked at the gooey remains on the foil, and then wet his finger and dabbed at the chip crumbs on his pants, ate them, and licked the salt off the bag.

  ‘You’re so gross,’ Idelle said.

  Theo picked up the Nokia again.

  ‘Can you fix it?’

  Theo knew he had as much hope of fixing it as he did of winning a Nobel Peace Prize, but he nodded his head anyway. ‘The cover’s stuck. I need something pointy, something thin and sharp.’

  ‘There’s loads of stuff.’