by Bear Grylls
‘Yeah?’
Brihony lowered herself to stand beside him. All her weight was on her arms until her feet touched the ledge. ‘Don’t do something like this. She won’t like it.’
‘Thanks. I’ll bear that in mind . . .’
Slowly, inch by inch, arms and legs spread out, they made their way along the ledge. The cliff in front of their faces was cool and smooth. Because the ledge sloped, every new step was slightly lower than the last one. The first time Beck bent his legs, his knees pushed against the rock as if trying to overbalance him; instead, they had to twist their legs round as far as they could, spread-eagled against the stone. It was nerve-racking work and tiring on the limbs; soon their legs felt as if they were being slowly twisted out of their sockets.
Try as Beck might, he couldn’t turn his head enough to see how far down they had come. All he could do was keep going.
The end came abruptly when the ledge vanished into thin air: Beck’s right foot came down where it had been expecting rock – and there was nothing.
‘Whoa!’
He scrabbled at the rock with his fingers, and Brihony grabbed hold of his shirt. He managed to pull himself back so that both feet were on rock again, and peered down. There was no more ledge. On the plus side, they were only about five metres from the rocks at the bottom of the cliff.
‘Bit more climbing, I’m afraid . . .’ he told Brihony.
‘Oh, I’m totally in the zone,’ she said through clenched teeth.
They crouched gingerly, and began to climb down the final few metres side by side. There wouldn’t have been room at the bottom between the cliff and the river for Beck to stand back and call out a route to her, as he’d done before. This was the only way to do it. Beck could have got down in half the time, but he made himself move at Brihony’s pace.
In five more minutes they were at the foot of the cliff. They stood on a thin line of boulders that ran along the water’s edge.
‘Think there’ll be crocs here?’ Brihony asked.
‘I doubt it. No other animal would be stupid enough to climb down that cliff, so they won’t associate this place with food.’
‘Hope you’re right. OK – what next?’
‘Dunno. Look for a cave? Or look for spears . . .’
They went in separate directions, and Brihony was the first to call out. Beck hurried back to find another carved man, his spear pointing straight up at the sky. He craned his head back. About three metres above them he saw a dimple in the cliff face. He couldn’t tell if it was a cave or not. The top of it overhung, so it would be invisible from above.
‘We’ve got to climb again . . .’ Brihony moaned.
‘Yeah, but not far. I’ll go first to check it out.’
Beck covered the distance quickly while Brihony waited by the river. She hugged herself and, despite Beck’s reassurances, kept a careful eye on the water for crocodiles. In a matter of moments Beck had reached the edge of the recess, and now he could see that it was a dark hole that led into the rock. He looked back down at Brihony with a huge smile on his face.
‘Bingo!’
She broke into a wide grin of her own, and excitement helped her up the rock almost as quickly as him. They stood facing the cave entrance. Cool air that had never felt the touch of the sun brushed gently against their faces.
‘I don’t suppose Pindari had a torch?’ Brihony asked.
Beck rummaged through the pockets of the bag and his hands closed around a metal tube. ‘Turns out he did.’ He flicked it on. ‘There’s a difference between preferring the old ways and just ignoring the modern world out of stubbornness.’
They made their way forward. The floor sloped gently upwards, and the rocky walls closed in around them. Beck felt the roof brush against his hair.
After a few paces, when they were almost completely enclosed by rock, the cave turned abruptly. They looked round the corner, and Beck shone the torch into a void. Both of them let out a whistle.
The passage opened up into a huge chamber. It was the size of a house and the shape of a giant pumpkin. The roof was held up by a natural pillar of rock. And from floor to ceiling, the curved walls were covered with paintings.
Humans and animals jostled for space on the rock face. They were all shapes and sizes, mostly smaller than life, though on the pillar facing the entrance were a couple of large figures brandishing spears as if guarding the entrance.
Figures with spears hunted herds of animals around the cave. Where the rock curved and bulged, the paintings seemed to ripple. The images were painted in shades of red and brown and looked as fresh as if they’d been done yesterday.
Beck and Brihony walked slowly into the cavern, as reverently as if it was a great temple. This place had to be unique, Beck thought. All over Australia there was rock art left by the Aboriginal peoples but he had never heard of anything like this, all in one place. Everyone would want to know about it. Everyone deserved to. This was part of Australia’s heritage.
‘Beck . . .’ Brihony’s voice sounded strangely strangled as she studied one particular image. A group of hunters circled around an animal that Beck recognized immediately. It dwarfed them. ‘This is a giant kangaroo.’
‘Yeah, I can see that.’
‘No, I mean, that’s its name. The giant kangaroo was part of Australia’s megafauna – huge animals that lived thousands of years ago. All extinct now.’
Beck remembered that Al’s award had something to do with the extinction of the megafauna. He wondered what his uncle would make of this place.
‘It was three metres tall,’ Brihony went on. ‘And there – that’s a dromornis.’ Beck followed her pointing finger. It looked to him like a giant dodo, but it towered over the humans attacking it. ‘It was a giant flightless bird. But, Beck, the megafauna have been extinct for at least forty thousand years. So if these were painted by people who had actually seen them . . .’
Beck whistled. The paintings were unimaginably old.
‘Pindari wasn’t wrong,’ he said. ‘If the stick’s here, then the ancestors really are watching over it.’
‘So, yes – the stick. Where is it?’ Brihony wondered.
‘Ah. Yes . . .’ Beck gazed around the interior of the cave. The paintings were awesome, but they had waited forty thousand years; they could wait a bit longer. Where was the stick? He shone the torch up and down over every inch of rock, bringing light where so little light had entered for many thousands of years. They walked right round the central pillar. Behind it, a narrow passage twisted and wound away into the depths of the earth. Beck flashed the light down there too. The paintings stopped after a few metres, and then there was nothing but bare rock. It narrowed to a crack that was too small to accommodate a person. He hoped the stick wasn’t down there . . .
Beck thought for a while: maybe the instruction to follow the spears still applied in the cavern? But without even moving his head he could see ten, twenty, thirty spears all pointing in different directions.
He and Brihony returned to the entrance, where they had started. Once again Beck studied the two life-size images on the pillar that held up the roof: a man and a woman who stood facing the entrance. If you had a light, then they were the first thing you saw when you came in. Each held an upright spear, but the one on the left leaned a little to the right, while the one on the right leaned to the left. If you extended the line from the tip of each spear, the two would meet . . . Beck shone the torch at the spot where they would cross, and squinted closely up at it. There was a dark shadow in the rock there – a small recess.
‘Hold this . . .’ He gave the torch to Brihony so she could shine it where he was looking. Taking great care not to disturb any of the paintings with his hands or feet, he climbed a little way up the rock wall until the shadow was just above him. It was a hole about the width of a clenched fist. He couldn’t see how far into the rock it went. He pushed the machete gently into the dark space, because even in a sacred place like this there might be some
thing poisonous lurking . . .
Beck wished he could see in. He tapped the blade experimentally up and down. It made a metallic ting every time it came up against rock. Then, abruptly, the ting became a tap. It had found something that wasn’t rock. He used the blade to work whatever it was to the edge of the hole. Something smooth and rectangular – and a lot less than forty thousand years old – fell into his hand.
‘Yes!’ He jumped back down to the floor and brandished the USB stick in front of Brihony – a piece of plastic the size of his finger. ‘Thank you, Pindari!’
Twin torch beams stabbed at them from the entrance of the cave and pinned them to the spot.
‘Oh yes,’ said a familiar voice. ‘Thank you, Pindari!’
Ganan and Barega sidled into the cave. Barega looked around with undisguised awe, but Ganan kept his torch firmly on Beck and Brihony. The light reflected off the barrel of the gun in his other hand.
Chapter 26
‘This is the most astonishing . . .’ Barega breathed. His eyes and torch darted from painting to painting. ‘I mean, the most . . . the most—’
‘Cut it out, Barega. Beck, I’ll have the stick, thank you very much,’ snapped Ganan.
Barega didn’t seem to have heard him. ‘How old is this place? It must be . . .’
‘Forty thousand years,’ Brihony said, for his benefit.
‘Wow . . .’
‘Beck!’ Ganan barked. ‘The stick!’
Beck looked from the gun, to the stick, to the gun again. ‘Come and get it?’ he suggested.
But Ganan stayed safely out of range. He had learned his lesson. He swung the gun round to point straight at Brihony’s face. ‘I’ll count to five, and then Miss Stewart doesn’t have a head. One, two, three—’
‘OK, OK!’ Beck chucked the stick so that it landed at Ganan’s feet.
The man smiled and swung the gun back towards him. Beck’s heart pounded as he stared down the small, dark circle of the barrel.
‘And drop that machete. Now,’ Ganan ordered.
Beck let it clatter to the floor.
Ganan grinned without mirth. ‘You and me, kid, we’ve got unfinished business, and I’m going to put that right.’ His finger tightened on the trigger. Beck closed his eyes, then opened them again and stared hard into Ganan’s. If he was going to die, he was going to watch his death coming.
The man bit his lip. ‘Turn round.’
‘You can do it facing me,’ Beck said through clenched teeth.
The gun wavered, and Ganan started to breathe heavily. ‘I said, turn round!’
‘To make it easier for you? I don’t think so,’ Beck replied. There was nowhere to run – Ganan would just shoot him in the back. He wondered if he would feel the bullet before it killed him.
Brihony let out a whimper of fear or anger or both – but then she hurled her water bottle through the air. It struck Ganan in the face, the gun went off with a roar that echoed around the cavern, and Ganan staggered back with a curse. Beck felt the bullet crack through the air past his head.
Then Brihony grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the entrance, but Barega was blocking their way. Brihony swerved and they took cover behind the pillar.
It was futile. They were running – just like the last time Ganan had tried to kill them – except that now there was nowhere to run. The men didn’t even have to chase them.
That didn’t stop Brihony. She ran towards the crevice they had seen earlier, but suddenly a bright light shone in their eyes. Ganan had simply come round the other side of the pillar. In the dazzling torch beam, Beck could see the glint of the gun barrel.
‘We’ve wasted enough time,’ Ganan said bitterly.
‘No, wait!’
The voice came from behind them, and they jumped. Barega had appeared from the other direction; he seemed to have woken up to the fact that a murder was about to be committed.
He pushed past Beck and Brihony to confront Ganan. ‘This wasn’t meant to be!’ he shouted. ‘There wasn’t meant to be any killing! That wasn’t what they paid us for!’
Ganan rolled his eyes. ‘For the last time, cut it out! What did you think would happen? This whole place is going to be a mine – got that? It’s going to be levelled. We’ll be rich!’
‘But . . . but . . .’ Barega stammered hopelessly. ‘The Jungun and this place . . . and—’
‘The Jungun can move out of the Stone Age or drop dead,’ Ganan said harshly. ‘If erasing this place helps them, then we’re doing everyone a favour.’ As he spoke, he lowered the gun slightly. Beck gathered himself for a leap, but Ganan reacted first, and pointed the gun straight at him.
‘No!’ shouted Barega as he leaped towards Ganan’s arm just as he pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed around the cave and drowned out the sound of the bullet whistling into the dark. The two men grappled with each other, staggering around the cavern like a pair of drunks. Beck looked down at himself, not quite believing he was still alive. In a sudden panic, he glanced over at Brihony. Had the bullet hit her?
But she was checking herself over in the same way. ‘Let’s get out while they’re occupied,’ she said quietly.
Beck nodded, and they began to edge round the side of the cave, keeping well away from the struggling men.
And then there was another gunshot. Barega and Ganan froze, as if the music of their drunken dance had stopped. Ganan slumped forward into Barega’s arms. Barega let go, and his friend toppled to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He landed with a dull thud, dark red blood staining the front of his T-shirt. Blank eyes stared up at the roof of the cave.
Barega stepped back, trembling, the gun in his hand. Then he ran to the mouth of the cave and, with a wordless, animal cry, threw it away with all his strength. After a moment Beck heard the faint splash as it hit the water.
Breathing heavily, Barega came slowly back into the cave. Beck gave Brihony a gentle nudge in one direction while he went in the other. If the man planned to attack them, then it would be harder for him if they split up.
But Barega just dropped to the ground by Ganan’s body. He knelt there, his shoulders shaking with sobs.
After a while he turned his tear-stained face up to the two friends. ‘I’m not going to harm you.’ His voice was broken. He took the memory stick and thrust it towards Beck. ‘Boat’s outside. Take this, go home and show it to the world. Send the police back to arrest me when you’re done.’
‘Arrest you?’ Beck stared down at him. ‘You’re not coming now?’
Barega shook his head. ‘I have to make my peace with my ancestors. Just leave. Please?’
Brihony and Beck glanced at each other. Then Beck touched Barega on the shoulder, and he and Brihony headed for the entrance and looked down. Sure enough, the boat with its patched bow was moored at the water’s edge. Beck took one last look back. Barega hadn’t moved. He still knelt, head bowed, next to the body of the man he had killed.
Beck turned to follow Brihony out into the light.
Epilogue
The gleaming red bus pulled up outside the Tourist Information Centre with a hiss of hydraulic brakes. Passengers were already shuffling down the aisle towards the door. Brihony and Beck waited outside in the company of the police officer who had officially looked after them since they got back to Broome. And then Beck’s face broke into a grin and he waved as his uncle emerged into the sunlight.
Al waved back and came over, dragging his suitcase behind him. ‘Good to see you, boy.’ He wrapped his arms around Beck in a tight hug, then shook hands with the policeman. ‘I’ll take it from here, thanks. We’ll get a taxi.’
The officer smiled and left them. The moment the policeman’s back was turned, Al abruptly rapped Beck on the back of his hand with his knuckles.
‘Ow!’
‘That’s for being crazy enough to go off into the Outback with a couple of strangers and put yourself in danger, and . . . and . . . For crying out loud, boy, can’t you see how grey my h
air is? Do you want it to go white?’
‘Yeah, well, they told me . . .’ Beck’s voice trailed away. He had already given Al the facts over the phone. He had tried to stay behind. It wasn’t his fault the men had lied to him and tricked him into coming with them. Though his uncle had every right to be worried, and angry.
But Al still had one arm around his shoulder, and Beck knew that however angry his uncle had been, he was still forgiven.
‘And you must be Brihony.’ Al held out his hand.
‘That’s me. And my mum’s already chewed me out, so you can save yourself the bother.’
Al smiled. ‘Well, then, let’s go and see her, shall we?’
‘Do you know how many chemicals there are in that thing?’ Beck asked.
Brihony’s mouth was pursed around the straw that disappeared into her milkshake from the hospital canteen. She shook her head and sucked until the last drops had disappeared. ‘And I don’t care.’ She smacked her lips. ‘If the truck that delivered it drove past a cow, that’s quite close enough to nature. No more grubs and wee for me!’
‘Oh, sweetheart, please!’ her mother protested.
They were in Mia’s room in the hospital. She was well enough to sit up in bed and have visitors, but she still had to be monitored for a few more days.
‘It’s starting,’ said Al, and he aimed the remote at the television.
The news channel logo flashed up to a background of music, and the newsreader went straight into the main story.
‘Representatives of the Lumos Corporation have denied any involvement in the activities of two employees—’
‘Oh, yeah, right!’ Brihony exclaimed.
Beck frowned thoughtfully. He had run into powerful corporations before. They always had a way out. Only the little people got punished.
He had expected it, but it was still a shame. Someone had paid Ganan and Barega. Someone had decided that Lumos’s plans were worth murdering for. It would have been good to see that someone brought to justice as well.
‘It is understood that one of the two rogue employees died when they turned on each other. The remaining man is cooperating with the police and has agreed to be tried by Circle Court—’
