The Survivors

by Jane Harper

  Side by side, they gazed outwards, unflinching against the elements, their sculpted faces turned forever to where the Mary Minerva lay sunk beneath the waves.

  ‘I can see why people like them, but they always seem kind of cold to me,’ Olivia said.

  ‘Yeah?’ Kieran studied the three figures. The Survivors were permanently visible from the cliffs and the sea, tall enough that even in the highest tides and the worst weather, they never fully disappeared underwater. There was no danger of that today, as they stood knee-deep and watched over the placid ocean.

  ‘Maybe it’s just their name and the wreck and everything.’ Olivia shrugged. ‘It all feels a bit sad.’

  ‘Do you know they weren’t originally called that?’ Kieran said, and Olivia turned to him.

  ‘No. Really?’

  ‘They were, like, Trio in Iron or something, but then someone from the council heard about them and had the bright idea to put them out there. So they paid the artist extra to change the name, point them in the right direction and say they were a tribute to the wreck.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Olivia laughed.

  ‘Yeah. My brother told me. He found out by accident when he was having to do heaps of paperwork for the dive permits. I guess they thought The Survivors was catchier.’

  ‘They thought right,’ she said. ‘No-one tell the tourists, hey?’

  ‘It’s weird. I kind of like them better for knowing that, though,’ Kieran said. ‘How they nearly had this whole other life, standing around in a sunny park or something instead of stuck out there. It makes them seem more –’ He shrugged, suddenly feeling like an idiot. ‘I don’t know. Human or something.’

  Olivia looked at him then, something like surprise crossing her face.

  ‘Yeah,’ she said finally, turning back to The Survivors. ‘I get what you mean.’

  They stood together and watched the swell of the tide.

  After a minute, Olivia looked at him again. ‘So, Sean’s not going to be here at all?’

  ‘No.’ Kieran bent down and slipped on his t-shirt, the fabric sticking a little to his damp skin. When he stood up, her eyes were still on him; her hair shining in the sun, her legs long beneath her shorts. Her expression was unchanged, but there was an ember of something new sparking in that fresh sea air above the deserted beach.

  Or maybe not something new, Kieran could admit to himself. Something that had been there for quite a while, on his part at least, at school and on the bus and at all those booze-soaked parties. A rush he felt whenever Olivia was nearby.

  Kieran checked the cliff path. It was as empty as the beach. No-one was around. No Sean. No Ash. Just him and Olivia, for once. The caves lay across the beach, cool and inviting.

  ‘I could show you around,’ he said. ‘If you want.’

  Kieran waited. He realised he was holding his breath and let it out.

  Olivia was still watching him. ‘Yeah.’ She smiled, slowly. ‘Okay, then.’

  Chapter 10

  Olivia stopped at the gate of Fisherman’s Cottage and gave her name to the officer standing guard outside her own house. He motioned for her to wait and disappeared inside. A minute later, the front door opened and Sergeant Renn came out.

  His bald head was hidden by his police hat, making him appear less like a nightclub bouncer than he sometimes could. Not yet forty and he looked to Kieran like a man who had absolutely had enough. It was a shame, Kieran thought. When Chris Renn had arrived in Evelyn Bay twelve years earlier, his enthusiasm for small-town policing had seemed genuine rather than simply dutiful.

  He had spent all summer diligently shadowing then-Sergeant Geoffrey Mallott – a creaking sack of a man who preferred warnings dispensed with a grandfatherly twinkle to actual charges and paperwork. Mallott had marked off the days to his retirement on a calendar hanging in public view at the station, and been more than happy to let young Constable Renn solve any pressing cases of graffiti and littering and the occasional theft of a tourist’s wallet from under a beach towel. And Renn, for his part, had been happy to oblige.

  Kieran knew there was a general consensus among Evelyn Bay residents that they were lucky Chris Renn had stuck around as long as he had. He seemed competent and ambitious enough to progress elsewhere, but he had reassured them that he simply liked both the people and the place. There had been some fear they’d lose him a few years ago when he started getting serious with a woman in Launceston, but Renn was still here and she hadn’t joined him, so Kieran guessed it hadn’t worked out.

  Now, though, Sergeant Renn simply looked tired. He saw Kieran, Ash and Olivia at the gate of Fisherman’s Cottage, and lifted the police tape.

  ‘Just you, please, Olivia. For now,’ Renn said, holding up a hand as Ash started to follow.

  Ash looked like he was going to argue, but Olivia shook her head. ‘It’s okay.’

  She ducked under the tape and Renn turned back to the house.

  ‘Hey, Chris –’ Kieran called out, and the officer stopped. ‘I saw a car around here last night.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ Renn walked a few steps back. ‘Along Beach Road?’

  Kieran nodded. ‘A bit further along. Coming from this direction towards town.’

  ‘Time?’

  ‘About eleven-thirty.’

  ‘Make and model? Colour?’

  ‘Four-wheel drive. Holden, maybe.’ Kieran tried to think, but what he remembered most were the lights and the noise. Renn was still waiting. ‘Sorry. It was driving pretty fast. Mia saw it too, though.’

  ‘Okay. Try to remember what you can. We’ll grab a statement off you both when we get a chance.’ Renn turned back to Olivia. ‘Ready?’

  Renn’s tone was neutral and there was nothing unusual about the way he gestured to the front door, open and waiting for Olivia. But somewhere deep in Kieran’s primal survival instincts, a warning pinged. Tread carefully.

  Olivia herself paused, one hand still on the police tape, and Kieran wondered if she felt it too. Then she straightened, and followed Sergeant Renn into the house where, until yesterday, Bronte had lived.

  The tide swelled in and out, slow and steady as Kieran led Olivia across the beach. The South Cave was the further of the two from the cliff path, but it was his favourite.

  Kieran avoided the dip at the entrance, then reached out and offered Olivia his hand to help her over. She took it as they crossed the threshold from the bright light into the cool dark shadow.

  ‘Wow,’ she breathed as he took out his torch and showed her along one of the same routes he’d raced through an hour or so earlier. The rocks arched over them, mostly above head height, sometimes lower. The damp sand that formed the soft, wide path repaired itself quickly, their footprints vanishing almost as soon as they were made.

  ‘It’s really beautiful,’ Olivia said as they stopped and stood side by side, examining the way the natural patterns in the rocky walls formed strands of colour, woven together over millions of years and washed twice daily by the sea.

  Kieran had to agree. It was always beautiful, even if he rarely stopped to notice these days. He took his time leading them through, giving Olivia a chance to absorb the caves at her own pace.

  ‘What’s down there?’ Olivia asked as they came to a junction and Kieran guided her left rather than right.

  ‘Dead end, eventually.’ He shone his torch down the gloomy path. From where they stood, the tunnel looked the same as the other one. ‘It goes pretty deep, though. You can go a fair way before you have to come back.’

  ‘You’ve been down it?’

  ‘Yeah, once.’ By accident, when he hadn’t been paying attention.

  Kieran could still remember the startled leap of panic when he’d realised, too late, that he had gone wrong. Finn had warned him about exactly this, many times. Kieran knew all about the tunnels so twisty you could get lost ten step
s deep. The roof over Kieran’s head had instantly felt lower, hanging dark and heavy. He had checked his watch, struggling suddenly to calculate the minutes – hours, in reality – left until the tide was due to rush in.

  All he could think of was Finn’s warning: If you’re still in here at high tide, mate, you’re not coming out.

  Kieran had made himself take a few deep breaths, all alone in that unfamiliar space, and then turned a very careful 180 degrees and started to walk, slowly. When the first sliver of daylight had reappeared – literally at the end of the tunnel – he had let himself run towards it, embarrassed by his fear even as the adrenalin still coursed through him.

  ‘There’s not much to see down there anyway,’ he said to Olivia now, turning the torch away. ‘This route’s better.’

  They had traced the trail onwards through the rocks and eventually they could hear the sea and emerged once more near the wide-open cavern inside the mouth.

  ‘Back again,’ Kieran said. ‘Safe and sound.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Olivia’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright. ‘That was amazing.’

  ‘It’s good, hey? You’ve never been down here before?’

  ‘No, my mum says it’s off limits for a reason.’

  Kieran shrugged. ‘I mean, you don’t want to be around at high tide, but it’s okay now.’

  ‘Yeah.’ And Olivia had smiled as they stood alone in the dark cosy cave with the warm beach breeze floating in. ‘It’s pretty good now.’

  And Kieran, who found it best not to overthink things, had taken that as his cue and kissed her. She had kissed him back and, after a minute or two, he had put his hand out and led her a little deeper into the cave, where a large flat rock jutted out from the wall, creating a secluded ledge.

  And he had shown her, as he had shown a couple of other girls that summer, how to climb up, and they’d sat on his towel, hidden from view, and kissed some more as the afternoon light filtered in. They had stayed there, close and undisturbed, until eventually Kieran had very reluctantly checked his watch.

  ‘We’d better go,’ he’d said. ‘The tide’ll be coming in soon.’

  He’d helped her down and he’d been a little surprised, as they emerged, how thin and narrow the slice of beach had become. Time had slipped by faster than he’d thought. Out on the water, The Survivors were up to their waists.

  Kieran and Olivia climbed up the cliff path together and at the top, she’d stopped, looking back down at the hidden beach.

  ‘So are you going to tell all your footy mates about this?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Not if you don’t want me to,’ Kieran said. ‘I know Ash and some of the others can be dickheads sometimes, but I’m not like them.’

  ‘But –’ Olivia’s forehead creased.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Kieran –’ She looked at him. ‘You are like them.’

  He opened his mouth to argue, but something in the way she’d said it stopped him.

  ‘Well,’ he said, finally. ‘I still won’t tell anyone.’

  And somewhat even to Kieran’s own surprise, he had kept his word.

  Kieran and Ash stood at the gatepost, behind the police tape, staring at Fisherman’s Cottage. A uniformed officer had come out to fetch something from the police cars, leaving the front door open.

  Kieran could see a bright hallway leading first towards what he knew would be the kitchen and living area. What little he could see of the house looked neat and cared for.

  From what Olivia had said, it sounded like she hadn’t noticed any signs of violence or a struggle inside. Kieran pictured the layout of the house. Bronte’s bedroom window, looking over the beach. The back door, leading out to the small backyard and the sand. What had drawn her out there?

  From somewhere in the house, he heard Sergeant Renn’s low voice.

  There was nothing, then a short response. Olivia.

  Kieran couldn’t make out what either one was saying.

  Kieran and Olivia had met at the caves for a second time seemingly, if not actually, by chance. Kieran had hung around the deserted beach all afternoon, eventually resorting to doing some route mapping work for Finn and Toby as an excuse for being there. He’d sighed with relief when he’d seen Olivia’s sunlit head peering over the cliffs. He’d raised a hand and she’d waved back, both smiling as she made her way down.

  Two days later, he’d left Sean and Ash sitting in the Surf and Turf and jogged outside to catch her alone. He’d led her out of sight behind the community centre and straight up asked when she could next meet him.

  The following day, they had been on the ledge together and Olivia had looked up and spotted where Ash had used his keys to carve his name into the rock face a few months earlier. She’d run a finger over it and raised an eyebrow, and Kieran had shrugged.

  The ledge was technically Ash’s discovery. He’d stumbled across it the summer before in the midst of an enthusiastic campaign to convince some girl from the ice-cream shop to take her clothes off for him. It had worked, Ash had reported to Kieran later, with a grin. By mutual unspoken agreement they hadn’t mentioned it to Sean, who in his own quiet way could sometimes take the shine off stuff like that.

  Kieran’s only real concern whenever he laid his towel out on the flat rock with Olivia was that Ash might turn up unexpectedly, a potential conquest of his own in tow. Ash had been to stay with his dad and his dad’s new girlfriend – not the one he’d left Ash’s mum for, another one – and been in a foul mood ever since he’d got back.

  But thankfully no-one ever appeared uninvited at the mouth of the cave and, for those weeks at least, Kieran and Olivia had had the place to themselves.

  By the day of the storm, they had established something of a routine, and Kieran was already waiting by the time Olivia appeared on the cliff path. He was sitting by the cave entrance, glad he’d brought an extra hoodie and towel as he felt a breeze whip across the beach. The sea stretched out empty in front of him as he’d stood up to kiss her. The Nautilus Black was not sailing today, he knew. High winds were forecast. Finn and Toby would keep her safely in the marina.

  ‘I can’t stay too long,’ Olivia said when they broke apart. ‘It’s my mum’s birthday tomorrow. Gabby wants us to make her a cake.’

  ‘No worries. Looks like it might rain anyway.’

  Above, the earlier blue skies had given way to darkening clouds that hung low with a pregnant weight. Inside, though, the cave was oddly warm, the rocks having absorbed the heat of the midday sun.

  As Kieran and Olivia climbed onto their ledge, tucked away safely from the elements, Olivia had glanced back towards the beach. The weather wasn’t good.

  ‘Maybe we should leave it today?’

  ‘No,’ Kieran had said. ‘Stay. Please.’

  And he’d kissed her again and she’d kissed him back, and after that he had barely heard the rain start as they lay on the soft towels in the snug warmth of the shelter. When the lightning had begun to flash outside, it was nothing short of romantic, and Kieran had thought to himself – this almost made him laugh later – that he would remember this day.

  He was surprised, when he finally sat up, to see how dark the sky was. He checked the time. It wasn’t even that late. He looked over at Olivia and saw her staring down.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she said.

  It was the note in her voice that made him stop. He looked to where she was pointing, beneath the ledge. Across the bottom of the cave, the sand was hidden by a dark sheet of water.

  Ash leaned on the gate outside Fisherman’s Cottage and, distracted, reached over the police tape and pulled out a weed growing near the fence line.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, tossing the weed on the ground as the uniformed police officer at the door frowned. ‘Bloody hell, what’s taking so long?’


  Kieran checked his watch. It hadn’t really been that long, but he knew what Ash meant. It was unnerving to just stand there, not knowing what was happening.

  ‘Bronte seemed nice,’ Kieran said, for something to fill the space. ‘From what I saw.’

  ‘Yeah, she was. All right, calm down, mate –’ Ash had reached over to pull out another weed, but dropped it as the frowning uniformed officer looked poised to act. Ash turned his back on the house and leaned against the fence. ‘Bronte was good fun. Easy to be around, you know? Easygoing, I guess,’ he corrected himself. ‘I know she drove Liv a bit nuts, but it wasn’t deliberate. I mean, Liv’s got other things going on, stuff with her mum. It wasn’t all about Bronte, even if Liv thinks it was.’ Ash glanced sideways. ‘Don’t tell Olivia I said that.’

  Kieran shook his head with a small smile. Ash turned back to the house, his own smile fading.

  ‘I know it’s different when you live with someone, but I thought Bronte was all right.’ He frowned, and fell quiet for a moment. ‘Liam liked her. A lot. Whatever Sean reckons, that kid was into her. Bloody obvious about it too.’

  ‘And what did Bronte make of him?’

  Ash reached out and ran a rough finger and thumb over the police tape looped across the gate. ‘Who knows, eh?’

  Olivia pointed as the green-black water surged slick and strong across the cave floor, foaming angrily against the walls. The sight of it was Kieran’s last completely clear memory of that day. Everything after that came in snatches.

  He remembered sliding off the ledge feet-first, and the shock of discovering the water he’d thought was ankle-deep was above his knees. Come on, come on, he had urged, watching in disbelief as Olivia took valuable seconds to reach up and snatch the waterproof bag with their phones in it.

  Jesus, leave it, he must have said, because he remembered her looking at him in astonishment.

  Are you kidding? No way. Her eyes were wide.