Phantom of Terawhiti

by Des Hunt

  Before he left the computer he checked out Facebook to see what was happening with Bryan’s Phantom. He was surprised to find that Bryan’s Phantom was no more. It was now called the Phantom of Terawhiti. People had accepted Skeptik’s idea that the phantom had come off Anastasia. Skeptik had made further postings suggesting that Mikhail Popanov might pay a big reward to anyone who found the leopard.

  That it was a leopard was no longer in doubt. There was a photo of a white leopard walking alongside a stream north of Makara Beach. The image was remarkably clear; so much so that some postings suggested it had been manipulated. However, the general feeling was that it was real. A host of other sightings around the area seemed to confirm this.

  To Zac, this was good news. It shifted attention away from Terawhiti. The absence of vehicles parked by the stream that morning suggested that the hunters had already moved somewhere else.

  After lunch, Zac returned to Hermit’s Hole to check on Tasha. She was alert and looking at the door from her bed when he entered. Once she had confirmed that it was him, she gave a little mew, rolled over and went back to sleep.

  Zac returned to the homestead and lay on his bed to read. Instead, he fell asleep; the early morning and the exertion of the day before had caught up with him.

  He opened his eyes hours later, knowing that something had woken him, but unsure of what it was. He rolled over and found his father staring down at him.

  ‘Zac, where’s all the steak gone?’ The tone was not friendly.

  ‘Are we running low?’ asked Zac, hoping to buy some thinking time.

  ‘Low? There is none!’

  ‘We must’ve used it all then.’

  Crawford’s voice got louder. ‘Used it! We haven’t had any yet!’

  ‘There must be other food in there.’

  ‘Yes, there is. But that doesn’t answer my question. Where has the steak gone?’

  Zac was out of ideas. No believable lie would come into his head, so he opted for the truth.

  ‘I used some of it to feed an animal. I thought there was plenty left.’

  ‘What sort of animal?’

  ‘A serval.’

  Crawford shook his head in disbelief. ‘Would this be the animal you think came off the Anastasia?’

  Zac nodded.

  More shaking of the head. ‘Zac, all you’ve done is feed our steak to wild pigs. There is no serval.’

  ‘There is, Dad. We’ve got it in a place called Hermit’s Hole.’

  ‘Who’s we? You and Jess?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So she thinks there’s a serval as well? I thought she had more sense than that. And you! You’re far too old to be having imaginary friends.’

  Zac’s body stiffened. ‘She’s not imaginary. She’s real.’ He climbed off the bed. ‘Come on! I’ll show you.’

  ‘Why should I waste my time?’

  ‘Because you say I’m lying, and I can prove I’m not.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Crawford. ‘I’ll come, but it better not take too long.’

  They walked in silence, the son leading the way with the father several steps behind. Zac took the route via the shoreline so that Crawford didn’t have to get his shoes wet. Climbing up onto the terrace, Zac observed that the place was still clear of cars. At least something was going right.

  The afternoon light was fading as they pushed through the bushes towards the hideaway.

  ‘This is Hermit’s Hole,’ he said. ‘This is where we’ve hidden her.’

  Crawford remained silent.

  Zac unhooked the door and pulled it back. He half-expected Tasha to jump up to him, but there was nothing.

  ‘Tasha,’ he called into the darkness.

  Still nothing.

  ‘So where is this serval?’ asked Crawford. The mocking tone was impossible to miss.

  ‘She’ll be here,’ said Zac. ‘I just need to light a candle.’ He moved to the ledge where the candle and matches were kept. They weren’t there.

  ‘Something’s wrong,’ he said.

  ‘You’re darn right, something’s wrong. You’ve dragged me out here on a wild goose chase. There is no serval.’

  ‘There is, Dad! If I had a torch I’d show you.’

  ‘How about this then?’ said Crawford, digging into his pocket. A moment later the screen of his phone glowed in the darkness. He handed it over to Zac. ‘Now show me this animal.’

  Zac knew before he’d taken two steps that more than the candle was missing. The food and water bowls should have been beside the door.

  They weren’t.

  He moved to where Tasha’s bed had been.

  Nothing!

  He called her name, even though by then he knew that she was gone. Worse than that, it was as if she had never been there.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Keith: It’s a cold autumn Monday morning here in Wellington. You’re listening to Dub Dub FM, your official Phantom of Terawhiti news station.

  Sally: Since when did that happen?

  Keith: This minute. I just declared it.

  Sally: So you’re buying into the story that there’s a leopard loose around Terawhiti.

  Keith: Not any more, there isn’t. It’s moved north of there to around Makara Beach. In the last 24 hours there have been numerous sightings in the area, and one very good photo.

  Sally: I’ve seen that photo, and I think it came from a computer program, not a camera.

  Keith: Oh, there are doubters all right. There always are.

  Sally: So there should be. It’s all happened before, Keith. The panther that was loose around Ashburton; that puma near Invercargill; a mountain lion standing on the Moeraki Boulders. None of them was ever proved to be true. People simply like imagining big cats.

  Keith: This one is different, Sally. Dozens have seen it.

  Sally: Yeah, right!

  Now, moving on to other things. The salvage of the Anastasia was completed on Friday afternoon. A spokesperson for Mikhail Popanov said that all of the important gear has been removed and the remainder of the wreck will be left to become a shelter for marine life.

  Keith: Bet they made sure all signs of a leopard were removed.

  Sally: Leave it, Keith!

  Popanov is currently in the United States where he is visiting conservation programmes in the Florida Everglades. Officials hope …

  ‘That’s where you got the idea from, isn’t it?’ said Crawford. ‘You got it from that crazy guy.’

  Zac didn’t want to talk about it. Nothing he’d said last night had convinced his father, and it was unlikely to be any different this morning. Even the photo of Tasha hadn’t worked. Crawford’s response had been like Sally’s: Zac must have created it on his computer.

  Crawford chuckled. ‘At least those other people are imagining a decent-sized cat. One that can kill humans.’

  The humour was lost on Zac. He continued eating his breakfast, silently.

  He was saved from further comment by the phone ringing in another room. Crawford went and answered it.

  Zac looked at his own phone. It was after ten o’clock. He’d expected Jess to have arrived by now, or at least to have left a message. For once, he was relieved that she was late. He was not looking forward to explaining to her that the Neanderthals had taken Tasha. There were going to be tears and accusations. Knowing that he’d told her so wouldn’t make it any easier.

  ‘That was Jenny McGonagall,’ said Crawford. ‘She asked if Jess could stay the night. They’ve got a function in Wellington, and the person who Jess normally goes to is away on holiday.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said yes, of course. I can clear my stuff off the bed in the office. They’re coming over shortly.’

  Zac lowered his head. A bad day had got worse. He’d imagined that Jess would be so upset about Tasha that she would go home and leave him to mope in peace. Now there could be no avoiding each other for the next 24 hours.

  Zac was in his room when they arriv
ed, lying on his bed, trying to keep his brain from thinking about Tasha.

  It wasn’t working.

  He could hear them talking to Crawford but couldn’t make out the words. Jess seemed cheerful enough. That would soon change. He wondered if Crawford would mention the serval, and decided that he wouldn’t. His father believed Zac was a little crazy — not the sort of thing that you passed on to others.

  Reluctant to go out and greet them, Zac got up and sat at the computer. He moved the mouse and the screen filled with the photo of Tasha on the rock up Breakneck Creek. That was how he’d left the computer last night, after Crawford had accused him of creating the photo using Photoshop. He was about to remove it when there was a knock on the door.

  ‘Can I come in?’ It was Jess.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Oh, wow!’ said Jess, staring at the computer. ‘That’s fantastic! I never knew that it would come out that well.’

  Zac gave the barest of nods.

  ‘Oh, wow!’ she repeated. ‘Bet you’re pleased with it. That’s one of the best photos ever.’

  This time Zac gave no response. Something was wrong here. This was not the way Jess usually reacted. She’d never been this gushy before.

  Silence followed, stretching out to the stage where someone had to speak. Zac broke first.

  ‘Jess—’ he began.

  ‘No, Zac,’ said Jess. ‘Let me speak.’

  He felt her hand rest on his shoulder.

  ‘She’s all right.’ A pause. ‘Tasha. She’s all right.’

  Zac swivelled around. ‘What do you mean?’

  Jess couldn’t meet his eyes. ‘It was me,’ she said. ‘I took her away.’

  The skin on his face tightened. ‘You took her?’ Hands clenched into fists. ‘Where? Why?’

  Jess moved away to sit on the bed.

  ‘I came to see her after the wedding. I wanted to have some time with her. We were outside playing when I saw you leave the house with your father. I knew what you were going to do, so I collected everything and took her into the bush. We hid there until you’d gone.’

  Zac’s mind was a battle between anger and relief. ‘Is she back now?’

  ‘Yes. I took her back as soon as you left.’

  ‘Why did you do that to me?’

  Jess looked up. ‘I just did it. I didn’t really think it through. I wanted her to remain our secret. I’m sorry.’

  Relief won out. ‘Dad thinks I’m crazy.’

  ‘Maybe you are a little.’

  ‘No, I’m not. What you did is exactly what the Neanderthals will do if they find her.’

  Jess nodded. ‘They were parked on South Makara Road when we came through.’

  ‘They’re waiting for me to lead them to Tasha,’ said Zac. ‘They put a tracking device on my bike.’

  Jess’s eyes went wide. ‘What?’

  Zac stood. ‘Come and I’ll show you.’

  The Pet-Tail device was still where he’d left it on the barbecue table. Although its outside casing was wet from overnight rain, no moisture seemed to have got inside.

  ‘If I picked it up and walked around, would they see me move?’ asked Jess.

  ‘No. It doesn’t send a continuous signal. Only when they text it.’

  ‘So if we knew the number, we could text it and know where it was?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘So how can we find out the number?’

  ‘We can’t,’ replied Zac. ‘We need to put in our own SIM card. Then we could put it on Tasha and track her if she gets taken.’

  ‘Hang on!’ said Jess, moving off inside.

  A moment later she returned carrying two phones. She put one on the table. ‘We can use the SIM card from this one. I don’t use it very often.’

  ‘Why do you have two phones?’

  Jess smiled. ‘Because Mum takes my phone as punishment. So I bought another one which she doesn’t know about.’

  Zac started taking the back off the phone. ‘If we do this, the Neanderthals will know something’s gone wrong with it.’

  ‘Good!’ said Jess. ‘It’s time we started hitting back.’

  The rest of the morning was spent loading the appropriate tracking app onto Jess’s main phone. Lunch was a rush job as both were keen to see Tasha again.

  The optimism they’d felt during the morning took a hit soon after they’d crossed Waiariki Stream. Bryan’s ute was back in the bushes. Obviously he wasn’t convinced by the sightings fourteen kilometres to the north. Maybe he knew something that the others didn’t.

  Jess walked up to the ute and looked inside. ‘You know those car numbers I gave Dad? Well, Jim took them to the police. He rang Dad back this morning. Bryan Dixon shouldn’t be hunting pigs at all. He doesn’t have a firearms licence. He lost it after he almost shot a person somewhere up north.’

  ‘It doesn’t seem to be stopping him,’ said Zac. ‘He was carrying a gun when I saw him.’

  ‘And I bet he’s got one now,’ added Jess. She pointed to the ground. ‘They’ve got the dogs with them again.’

  The area around the ute was trampled with boot and paw prints.

  ‘We’d better be careful,’ said Zac. ‘They could be anywhere.’

  ‘Then let’s trick them,’ said Jess. ‘We’ll go along the beach and come up the other end.’

  It was three times the distance and not an easy climb back up to the terrace, but when they’d done it, Zac felt more relaxed. Still, they approached Hermit’s Hole with caution.

  It looked just as it should, with the door firmly closed and hooked in place.

  Jess put a hand on Zac’s arm. ‘Let’s listen,’ she said. ‘Yesterday I could hear her chirping before I even touched the door.’

  They listened, but there was no chirping.

  ‘Maybe she’s asleep,’ said Jess.

  Zac opened the door. Things had changed.

  ‘Did you put her bed in a different place?’ he asked.

  ‘No!’ replied Jess, lighting the candle.

  ‘Then where is it?’

  As Zac’s eyes adjusted to the light, he could make out something in the darkness at the back of the cave.

  ‘There she is,’ said Jess. ‘She’s just shifted it.’

  With Jess holding the candle, they moved forward, the glow from Tasha’s eyes showing the way.

  ‘Oh no!’ cried Jess, raising her hand to her mouth. ‘She’s bleeding.’

  Tasha was lying on her side, curled into a half ball. There was blood on her hindquarters.

  Zac’s first thought was that she’d been shot.

  Then Tasha gave a little meow. It was a contented sound, not one of an animal in pain.

  Jess knelt beside her. ‘What is it, Tasha?’

  In reply, Tasha moved her head to between her legs, and nuzzled the fur by her belly.

  Jess gasped. ‘Oh my god!’

  Zac’s heart began racing as he realized what he was looking at. Nestled close to the fur of Tasha’s belly was a small squirming creature. Its fur was plastered flat where it had been licked. But there was no doubting what it was: Tasha now had a kitten.

  Chapter Nineteen

  There had been two kittens, but one had been stillborn. Zac had found its deformed body tucked in the deepest recess of the cave. Now it was buried in a hole formed by a rotting tree. He had covered it with boulders from the stream to both mark the grave and stop pigs from digging it up.

  While Zac had been doing that, Jess had held the surviving kitten so Tasha had a chance to lick herself clean.

  ‘Is that one okay?’ he asked, sitting down beside them.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ said Jess. She held it up for Zac to see.

  The spots and stripes on the kitten were closer together than on its mother, and the fur between more grey than white. Its eyes were sealed shut, making it look more like a mole than a cat. While it could never be called beautiful, Zac still wanted to hold it to his chest and protect it.

  ‘What shall we call it?’ he
said.

  ‘Depends whether it’s a boy or a girl,’ replied Jess. She turned it around and lifted the stubby tail. ‘I don’t know what I should be looking for. I think it might be a boy.’

  Zac took a look and ended up no wiser. ‘We’d better give it a name that works for either a boy or a girl.’

  ‘Alex,’ suggested Jess. ‘We used to have two Alexes at school — a boy and a girl.’

  ‘Alex,’ said Zac, nodding. ‘Hmm. Sounds a bit Russian, doesn’t it.’

  At the sound of the name, Tasha stopped licking and lifted her head to the kitten, as if in approval.

  Jess laughed. ‘She likes it.’

  And so the kitten was named.

  Hours passed. Tasha was asleep with Alex snuggled into her belly. Both were now dry and fluffy. Jess and Zac sat watching them, mostly in silence.

  For Zac, the arrival of the kitten had changed everything. No longer did he want others to know about Tasha. How could he give her up? Others might care for her and Alex, but would they give them the love that he felt deep within his being?

  No. More likely she’d be placed in a cage and treated like any other zoo animal. This was not the right thing for her. Hermit’s Hole was a much better place. The only problem was the continuing interest of the Neanderthals. If somehow they could be tricked into leaving, then everything would be perfect.

  He and Jess considered how they might use the Pet-Tail device to fool them, but failed to think of anything that would work.

  Instead, they decided to fit it to Tasha’s collar. The problem was getting the collar off. The metal clasp was rusty, possibly from being in sea water. It took a lot of fiddling and a bit of spit before Zac finally had the thing free. From then on it was simple — the device fitted almost as if it was made for the job. When the collar was back on and covered by fur, only someone who knew the device was there would notice it.

  Now, if she ever left Hermit’s Hole, they would be able to locate her. Not that they expected her to run away — she wouldn’t leave without her kitten. The device was a safeguard in case the Neanderthals took her.