Wreck

by Fleur Ferris

  Zel slumps to his knees, catching his breath. He shines his torch on Cameron’s still form.

  ‘Is he breathing?’ I whisper. I edge towards him, stopping a safe distance away, and see his chest rise and fall. ‘Yes. He’s alive.’

  Zel’s eyes flick towards the gun. He reaches for it.

  ‘Don’t touch it!’ I say.

  ‘We can’t leave it here. What if he wakes up?’

  ‘Yes, but they’re setting you up. What if he shot Carrington? If your fingerprints are on that gun, they could pin that on you too.’

  ‘Carrington,’ Zel whispers. He picks up the gun, touching only the edge of the butt, careful not to touch it anywhere else. He gently drops it into his ankle holster, clips it up, springs to his feet and runs.

  I take off after him.

  ‘Stop,’ I yell. ‘The bottle.’ I run back, scoop it up and feel the chill of the darkness behind me as I run towards the light.

  The tide has come in. We have to wade through water to get back to the point where it is easiest to climb up the cliff. The water is cold and my legs are heavy in the water. As we get further out the water gets deeper. I’m waist-deep now. Fear has got the better of me and I feel Cameron right behind me, I even hear him. I keep checking but no one is there. My thoughts then go to the top of the cliff, of who might be lurking up there. Cameron wouldn’t have come on his own.

  It’s a relief to reach the cliff face and pull ourselves up above water level. Adrenaline makes me zing. I feel light and agile. My hands start to bleed but I don’t feel any pain. My mind stays on climbing this cliff. Escaping. Surviving. I try to keep focused on the climb, rather than our vulnerability, hanging on the cliff face. Zel reaches the top first and waits below the edge until I catch up. He pokes his head up enough to see, then ducks back down.

  ‘What about Cameron?’ I say.

  ‘We’ll have to send someone back for him.’

  ‘What about the tide? Will he drown?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Zel says as he looks towards the cave. ‘Shit,’ Zel says as he throws himself up over the edge with renewed energy. ‘He’s not going to drown. We’ve gotta go.’ Zel reaches for my hand.

  Gunfire comes from beneath us and I glance back. Cameron is running through the water with a gun held high in the air.

  I push myself up and onto the clifftop, and move out of Cameron’s line of fire.

  ‘We haven’t got much time,’ I say.

  A second helicopter sits beside ours. Carrington is on the ground, lying on his back. A dark red patch stains his shirt and is pooling on the ground beneath him. Zel runs over to him and crouches down. Carrington’s eyes open.

  ‘You were right, William,’ Carrington says. ‘I’m sorry I doubted you.’

  ‘I’m going to get you out of here,’ Zel says.

  I look around for our pilot, and at first don’t see him lying on the ground beside Cameron’s chopper. I run to him and see straight away that his eyes are locked open like Simon’s were. Our pilot is dead.

  A cry escapes me. If our pilot is dead, then we are too. Cameron is going to come over that ledge any minute with the gun we stupidly didn’t search him for and he’s going to kill us. We’re idiots. We should have searched him, we should have shot him when we had the chance.

  ‘Tamara, give me a hand.’ Zel has his arm beneath Carrington. ‘Let’s get him into the chopper. We’ll make a run for it.’

  ‘We’ve lost our pilot,’ I say. ‘We’re going to die.’

  ‘No we’re not,’ says Zel.

  I hear a sound and turn around. Cameron clambers over the edge and crouches down to steady himself, gun raised at me. Zel drops Carrington, pulls Cameron’s gun from his ankle holster and fires. It clips Cameron on the shoulder and jolts him to the side. Cameron’s gun drops out of his hand as he twists, loses balance and topples over the edge. He catches himself with his good arm and I can tell his legs are working beneath him for a foothold. I sprint towards him and grab his gun. My anger boils over and I feel like kicking him in the head. Holding the gun terrifies me and I wonder if there is a safety catch. My hands tremble so I tighten my grip.

  ‘Please,’ Cameron says. ‘Help me.’

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ I say. ‘I should put a bullet in your head right now.’

  I sound venomous, but my hands are shaking so much now I’m not sure I could hit him even from this distance. I back away from him.

  ‘Good work,’ says Zel. ‘Now help me with Carrington.’

  ‘What? You can fly?’ Hope rises inside me.

  ‘Kind of. On three.’

  Zel counts and we lift Carrington into the helicopter cabin. He’s so weak he doesn’t even murmur. His face is ashen. We lay him on the floor.

  ‘You sit up front,’ Zel says.

  ‘No, wait, Zel, can you fly or not?’

  ‘We have no choice. Carrington doesn’t have time for us to wait here for help.’ Zel jumps into the pilot’s seat and jams the headset on and I do the same. He starts the engine, presses buttons, pulls levers and the blades start to whir.

  ‘Where did you learn to fly?’ I ask.

  ‘Smidge taught me. But I’ve only ever done it in a simulator, and even then Smidge was talking me through it.’

  My stomach drops. We’re going to die. We lift off the ground and the chopper moves forward way too fast.

  ‘Oh, too heavy,’ Zel says. He does something to make it steady and hover. ‘Okay, nice and easy now,’ he tells himself.

  Another guy comes flying over a cliff edge. He must have been down on the other beach. He pulls a gun from his hip, points it at us and fires.

  ‘Up!’ I scream. ‘Go up.’

  Zel lifts the helicopter high up over the island and then does something to make it go forward. I look back and see the guy running over to Cameron.

  Now that we’re up high, I start to panic. This is not safe. This is in no way safe. I no longer think helicopters are a good mode of transport. My parents would freak.

  ‘Can you land this thing?’ I say. ‘I mean, we’re away from the bullets, but are we safe yet?’

  ‘Not really,’ Zel says. ‘Carrington, are you awake? See if you can rouse him.’

  I jump up from my seat and step through to the back. Carrington’s eyes open when I squeeze his hand really hard, but other than that, he’s out.

  ‘It’s not good, Zel …’

  ‘We’ll ring Smidge as soon as we get into range. He can talk me through it.’

  I can’t believe this is happening. This is not going to end well. I look down at Carrington. Another good person … Tears of anger wash over my eyes.

  ‘We need to get Carrington to a hospital.’ The red stain on his stomach is getting bigger. He’s going to die before we get there.

  ‘We’ll call for an ambulance to meet us.’

  I can’t help thinking we all might need one if Zel can’t land this thing.

  I sit beside Carrington feeling hopeless for the next half hour and then my phone beeps. It’s a text from Relle.

  ‘We’re in range,’ I say.

  ‘Great,’ Zel says. ‘I need you to make sure my bluetooth is connected and then call Smidge from my phone for me.’

  I spring up to grab his phone and see that bluetooth is already turned on. It feels like forever before the devices connect. I scroll down his contact list to Smidge’s name and tap the screen. The sound of Zel’s phone ringing comes through my headset. The ringing stops.

  ‘Hey, dude.’

  ‘Smidge, mate, thank God you’re there. I need help.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I’m in the family chopper coming in over the ocean towards Hilding Cove. I’m flying it, man. The pilot and Carrington got shot.’ Zel’s voice breaks. ‘I’m it, mate, and you know how much I hate flying. I don’t know if I can land this thing.’

  ‘Okay. First thing, calm down. You’re going to land it just fine. It’s no different to what we did in the simulator,�
�� Smidge says.

  ‘I crashed the simulator,’ Zel says.

  ‘Not the fourth time.’

  ‘My odds aren’t great,’ Zel says.

  ‘You can do it this time.’

  ‘Freaking hell, Smidge, I don’t know.’

  ‘Do you trust me, Zel?’

  ‘Of course,’ Zel says.

  ‘Then do exactly as I say. If you do exactly as I say, you will be fine.’

  Hearing Smidge say this brings tears to my eyes. I don’t know him, but I sure want to trust him. I want my feet back on solid ground.

  Smidge and Zel talk nonstop, exchanging readings of instruments and instructions, while I hold Carrington’s hand, willing him to stay alive, willing Zel to land safely.

  ‘I want you to find an oval,’ Smidge says. ‘It will be easy to spot from the air and will give you heaps of room. The surface will be level, too, perfect for you to land.’

  ‘Right,’ Zel says. ‘I’ll look for an oval.’

  We come into a coastal town and find an empty oval like Smidge told us to. Smidge and Zel exchange numbers and words that don’t make sense to me, back and forth, and eventually Zel guides us so we are hovering above a grassy sports field. While Zel starts to bring us in, I take off my headset and use my phone to call for an ambulance. After confusion about our exact location the person on the phone says they have despatched an ambulance and police. As I hang up I grab the headset again just in time to hear Smidge.

  ‘Now, easy, bring it down,’ he says.

  Zel does everything Smidge tells him to. Sweat trickles down Zel’s temple as he concentrates and repeats every instruction Smidge gives.

  We hit the ground with a heavy thump, but we are there and we are alive. It takes Zel a while to shut down the engine, still under instruction from Smidge. Then he sits there for a moment. We fall silent, overcome with emotion. Staring out the window, we wait for the cavalry to arrive.

  Finally, Zel turns to me. He comes through to the back and kneels beside Carrington. Carrington’s eyes are closed and he is so still and grey that Zel feels for his pulse.

  ‘I wish they’d hurry up,’ Zel says.

  I feel choked up so don’t say anything.

  ‘Are you ready for what’s next?’ Zel asks. ‘With the police? We’ll probably be under arrest until they work everything out.’

  I release my hand from Carrington’s and pull Sergeant Wheldon’s card out of my bag.

  ‘I want to tell them everything before Knox can weasel up some kind of defence,’ I say.

  Zel nods. ‘Have you got the bottle?’

  I gasp and Zel’s shoulders drop.

  ‘Just kidding,’ I say. ‘Of course I have the bottle.’

  Zel punches me playfully on the shoulder as I call Sergeant Wheldon’s number.

  The ambulance and police arrive at the same time. Zel tries to stay with Carrington but the police make him lie on the ground. His hands are pulled behind his back and cuffed. They find Cameron’s gun when they pat him down and then search him again more thoroughly. By the way they are speaking to him, in their minds he is already proven guilty. I’m handcuffed and searched, too, but I am allowed to stand while they do it. I keep telling myself that we’ll be okay, that the truth will come out. They are just doing what they are trained to do, but deep inside I’m terrified. What if Knox is prepared for this and has more false evidence in place, another elaborate story ready?

  Carrington is wheeled away on a stretcher. The ambulance drives off with its lights flashing but no siren. Seeing him go makes me cry. And once I start I can’t stop. Everything is happening so fast. Surely another good man can’t die. More police keep coming. I am seated in a car, so I can’t see Zel. A female officer sits in the back with me.

  ‘This is all a big mistake,’ I say. ‘We’re innocent.’

  ‘You will have a chance to tell your story at the police station,’ she says, staring straight ahead.

  A large man with three stripes on his shoulders gets into the front seat and drives us away.

  Once we’re at the police station things slow down and the officers are calmer. I am taken to a room that has nothing in it except a desk. A man in uniform itemises everything I own and puts it into a plastic bag.

  ‘The bottle with the note in it is evidence,’ I say. ‘That note inside proves our innocence.’

  The officer carefully removes the bottle, places it into a brown paper bag and labels it.

  ‘Be careful when you get the note out. It’s been in there for five years and it’ll be really fragile,’ I say. ‘When I found a note just like it, it took two of us to unroll it so it wouldn’t fall apart.’

  I feel like my instructions are falling on deaf ears. Of course police know how to treat evidence so it doesn’t get damaged. That’s part of their job. I’m just so terrified something will happen to it.

  The officer then reads me my rights again, in case I didn’t get it at the oval when they first arrested me. I tell him I understand and that I would like to ring my solicitor, Kate Winter, and my friend Relle.

  ‘The numbers I need are in there,’ I say.

  I go to grab the bag but the policeman snatches it away.

  ‘Please refrain from reaching over the counter,’ he says. He eyes me, waiting for my response.

  ‘Sorry,’ I say.

  The policeman writes down the numbers I need, then places the items back in the bag. Then he escorts me to an interview room. The police-woman from the car brings me a paper cup of water and then leaves.

  The moment I sit down, a sergeant comes into the room and asks me to follow him. We go to a desk with a phone and I make my calls, first to Kate and then Relle.

  After hearing my story, Kate reminds me about my options for answering questions and again I tell her I’d like to answer all police questions as honestly as I can. I have nothing to hide and want to help them solve this crime. Relle cries when she hears my voice and tells me she’s jumping on the first plane, with her mum in tow, to come and get me. I can’t talk her out of it. I assure her I am fine, but I’m secretly happy they are coming. So happy.

  The sergeant then leads me back into the interview room and tells me that two detectives will be in shortly to ask some questions.

  I don’t have long to wait before two officers in black suits enter the room. They introduce themselves as Senior Detective Woollard and Senior Detective O’Dwyer and proceed with questions.

  When my interview is over, Senior Detective Woollard opens the door to let in some air. The sergeant comes to the door and asks the two detectives to step outside. I hear some low murmuring before I catch the sergeant’s voice.

  ‘Some new info has just come in,’ he says. ‘It appears Tamara Bennett is telling the truth. William Chisel too. Their story is checking out.’

  ‘What? You’re telling me Knox Chisel is …?’ The detective doesn’t finish his sentence.

  ‘Bruce Carrington, the one who was shot, is awake and confirming everything they are saying. He says Cameron Porter is the gunman, but guess who employed him?’

  ‘Is someone down there getting his statement?’

  ‘Yep. It’s already been done. Carrington insisted on talking to the police before his surgery in case he dies on the table.’

  I gasp with excitement and relief. Carrington, you wonderful, wonderful man.

  One of the detectives must have heard me and realised they had left the door open because he comes over to close it and I can no longer hear what they are saying. But I don’t need to. The police have heard the truth from Carrington. They have our bottle. The truth is coming out, like it should. The truth won’t bring Simon or Darryl back, and it won’t take away my pain, but it is important.

  The two detectives come back into the room.

  ‘Thank you, Tamara, for being so patient and cooperative,’ Senior Detective Woollard says. ‘You have been ruled out as a suspect. Your story is being corroborated by a witness. We tracked the second helicopter comin
g in from the island and the two people on board are now in custody.’

  ‘Cameron Porter,’ I say.

  ‘You are also a witness, so I cannot discuss details of the investigation with you, but more information will be released soon,’ he says. ‘We’ll take you down to the property room and have your belongings returned to you.’

  When I get back my bag and phone I see that I have missed a call from Sergeant Wheldon.

  ‘I’ve missed a call,’ I say. ‘Is it okay if I call them back?’

  ‘You’re free to do whatever you like now. You’ll find William in the front waiting area.’

  I smile at him and call Sergeant Wheldon.

  ‘Hi, Tamara, how’s everything going up there?’

  ‘We’ve just been cleared,’ I say.

  ‘Good, I’m glad. I wanted you to know, Knox Chisel has just been arrested here in Melbourne.’

  I let go a deep sigh of relief.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say. Tears fill my eyes and I wipe them away as they fall. ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘You could have walked away when you left our station, but you didn’t. If something like this ever happened to my daughter, I could only hope she’d be as brave as you’ve been.’

  I hang up and feel so overwhelmed by everything that I cry. The guy behind the desk places a box of tissues on the counter, but that’s where his fussing stops. It makes me laugh. I guess this guy sees it all the time.

  Finally I am ushered back into a large room and see Zel watching the news on a TV screen. It shows footage of Knox being escorted into a black car, flanked by two men in dark suits. William must feel me watching him, because he turns to face me. Our eyes connect and we don’t look away. We smile. It’s pride that we feel, that together we uncovered the truth and brought some justice to this world. For Simon, Darryl, Christian and the others who have lost their lives. And for Zel. It’s more than pride for him. It’s freedom. He’s no longer a threat, dangerous, crazy, unstable. He has his life back, whatever that might be now.

  Zel stands and I go to him and we hug, holding onto the moment for as long as possible. Nothing needs to be said. We know.