Into the Mist

by Lee Murray

  Taine was itching to mention the creature, to say ‘I told you so’, after the pompous attitude de Haas had taken yesterday, but he noticed the geologist’s fingers trembling as he struggled with his zipper and decided against it. Instead, he said, “We’ll need to inform the authorities about what’s going on in here. Until we know exactly what we’re dealing with, we have to keep people out of the forest.”

  “What about us?” de Haas said. “How soon can the army airlift us out?”

  “We haven’t been able to contact anyone. The radio’s smashed – trampled – and the forest canopy is interfering with our comms links.”

  And there’s the small matter of our communications officer being dead.

  “Richard Foster has a cell phone. We could try that,” de Haas said.

  Taine shook his head. “There’s no coverage down here in the valley.”

  Coolie pulled his map from his vest pocket, his hands brushing over the tent fabric as he opened it. “If we can get high enough, we might be able to get a line on a cell tower,” he suggested. He peered at the map. “There’s a ridge here which might do. It’ll be steep, but a small group could be up and down before dark.”

  Taine frowned. “I don’t like splitting the group with that creature out there.”

  “I’ll be the one to make that call, Sergeant,” de Haas replied.

  Taine raised his eyebrows. So, the rabbit had come out of its hole. “With all due respect, they’re my men.”

  “And until we hear otherwise, I am still the appointed leader of this Task Force.”

  Taine was in charge. Arnold had made that quite clear: the minute they found anything untoward, anything that threatened the safety of their fellow New Zealanders, then the mission became army business. The problem was, until they made contact with the authorities, de Haas would continue to believe he was leading this entire shebang, and if they were to have any hope of making contact, Taine would have to put his men at risk.

  “I like Coolie’s idea,” de Haas was saying. “He’ll go. And those young ones. Read and Miller. They should be able to move fast. Nathan Kerei can go too, since he’s familiar with the area.”

  “Nathan can’t go. Singh wants to monitor him for concussion,” Taine said, realising immediately he’d agreed to separate his section.

  “Eriksen then,” de Haas declared.

  Taine clamped his lips shut. It didn’t escape his notice that de Haas hadn’t included himself in the line-up.

  * * *

  Taine crossed the clearing.

  Sitting huddled in a blanket, Jules looked up when he approached. Her face was pale.

  “Dr Asher? Are you okay? If you’re hurt, Jugraj Singh will be happy to help.”

  Moving closer to Jules, Foster put an arm about her shoulders and hugged her to him. “She’s fine. Made of tough stuff, our Jules.”

  Smiling weakly, Jules pulled out of his embrace. “I’m fine. Jug has already checked me over. I’m just a bit shaken. This morning wasn’t your everyday wake-up call.” She bent to stroke Ira’s dog, and it promptly rolled onto its back, inviting her to rub its belly.

  Taine turned to her boss. “Dr Foster, our radio was damaged when the…”

  “Sphenodon. Jules and I have been discussing it, and we think it’s a Sphenodon,” Foster said.

  “… when the Sphen-o-don…” Taine said the word slowly, “…charged through the camp. Do you have your cell phone? Is it still intact?”

  Foster patted his shirt and, locating the phone, pulled it out and checked the screen. “Seems okay. I can’t see it’ll be much use though. I haven’t had any coverage since we left the road.”

  “We’d like to take it, if you don’t mind. Coolie’s taking a couple of men up to one of the ridges to see if they can find a signal.”

  Foster handed him the phone, his fingerprints evaporating from the screen.

  Jules’ eyes widened. “But what about Louise?” she demanded. “And Ira? Aren’t you going to look for them?”

  Taine ran a hand over his chin, scratching his stubble. Last night he’d promised her they’d look for the technician as soon as it was light. “‘I’m sorry. Looking for Louise and Ira will have to wait. I can’t afford to split my section any further. I have to think of the safety of the rest of the group.”

  Pulling her to him again, Foster kissed the top of her head. “I’m sure she’ll be okay, Jules,” he murmured.

  Taine gritted his teeth.

  “She’ll have found somewhere dry to wait until dawn,” Foster continued. “If we stay put, I’m going to bet that she walks back into camp in the next hour.”

  “You think?” Jules said.

  Unable to bear the look of hope in her eyes, Taine left them to it.

  Chapter 16

  Grasping the handgrips, Trigger shouldered the launcher – a Carl Gustave 84mm recoilless anti-tank weapon. He pointed it into the forest, testing its weight, before setting it down again – already missing the solid feel of the weapon on his shoulder. Then, he rose and moved the rounds closer, miming loading and firing the machine, reacquainting himself with it. The ‘Charlie Gutsache’ was usually operated by two men – one to carry the weapon and shoot, and the other to carry the ammunition and load. Trigger wasn’t sure they’d have the luxury of two men, not if the creature returned while Coolie’s group was off chasing cell towers. But after running through the breech-loading motion a few more times, he had to concede operating it solo wasn’t ideal. He put the weapon down as Lefty approached.

  “We should have brought M72 disposables,” Lefty said.

  “Yep. Didn’t think we’d need them. Not here at home. And not in the forest. The only thing to point them at are people and possums.”

  “Until now.”

  “Yeah, until now.”

  “So, what do you reckon?” Lefty said, kicking at the ground with the toe of his boot. “Will the Charlie G kill it?”

  “Should do. If it doesn’t hit a tree first. It’s pretty dense in here.”

  Lefty sniffed. “The Steyrs were fucking useless. Just bounced off.”

  “Yeah, be good when the DMW 7.62 rifles come in. Steyrs,” he shook his head. “I reckon you get more penetration from a eunuch.”

  Lefty tipped his head at the grenade launcher. “The Charlie G might not be much better. It’s a low speed projectile, right?” he said, pursing his lips and squinting into the bush.

  “Close range target, though,” said Trigger quickly, wondering just how close he’d be willing to let the creature get. “Can do a lot of damage.”

  Lefty placed a hand on a round, caressing its curved ogive. “What are these?”

  “Soft target rounds.”

  “Fuck. Did that thing look soft to you?”

  “Yeah well, we weren’t expecting to see armoured tanks cruising around the Ureweras. But even with soft target rounds, it’s an anti-tank weapon. It should do the trick. But how the fuck should I know? I’ve never had to shoot a dinosaur before.”

  “Take it from someone who’s been up close and personal, it isn’t pretty.”

  “Yeah, Lefty, about that. Sorry, I didn’t believe you, mate.” Trigger scanned the forest, catching Lefty’s shrug from the corner of his eye.

  “It’s okay. It was hard to believe. I didn’t really believe it myself, you know?”

  Trigger nodded. “Not something you read about in the army brochures.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I’m going to do a circuit of the campsite before I take a break. You good to do a stint here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You okay to operate this?”

  “On my own?” Lefty asked.

  Trigger nodded.

  “It’ll be slow to reload.”

  “Want to go through it, in case?” Trigger said.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “You see it, don’t wait for an order. Just point and shoot. Go for the eyes, like the boss says.”

  “Okay.”
Lefty placed his rifle on the ground and, kneeling, lifted the rocket launcher. Bracing the stop firmly against his shoulder, he looked down the sight.

  * * *

  Jules was sitting by the fire, seemingly mesmerised by the flames. She looked up and smiled as he approached.

  “Have a seat,” she said. With Lefty and Miller patrolling the perimeter, and Singh monitoring Nathan, Taine could spare a moment. He hunkered on the ground beside her, a practice he’d picked up in the Middle East.

  Jules pointed to the fire. “You’ve missed the show, but the credits are about to roll...”

  For a while, they were both quiet. Taine picked up a piece of wood and turned it over in his hands. It was a nice shape, the grain rich and smooth. He took out his knife and started whittling, keeping his hands busy.

  “Dr Asher—”

  “Jules, please,” she said, facing him. “You saved my life today, Sergeant McKenna. In my book that gives you the right to use my first name. I’d give you my firstborn, but I’ve only known you two days...” Colour rose in her cheeks, and she stopped talking, turning to fix her gaze on the fire once more.

  “Jules,” he said. “Taine.” He glanced at her. She was troubled: her irises were dilated, darkened, and she was chewing on her bottom lip. For the briefest second, Taine wanted desperately to put his own lips there…

  Coughing, he dragged his gaze away. What did he think this was? An episode of The-fucking-Bachelor?

  He clamped his jaw shut. Get a grip, McKenna. You’re here to do a job.

  And that’s exactly what he was doing: his job. Trying to keep this exploration party safe, while finding out what happened to the missing section. Jules had knowledge that could help him achieve both those objectives. It made sense that he talk to her. And for that he needed to gain her trust. It wasn’t his fault she was so damned distracting.

  Taine leaned in to place another branch on the fire, the ensuing sparks providing cover as he fought his way back to reason. This wasn’t the time.

  “Dr...” He corrected himself. “Jules. I was hoping you could tell more about the creature. Dr Foster said you’d been discussing it. What exactly is a Sphenodon?”

  That’s it. Steer the conversation to safer ground.

  “A Sphenodon – it’s related to the tuatara.”

  “I hope you won’t take offence, but I’ve seen a couple of tuatara, neither of them much bigger than a school ruler.”

  Jules laughed. “I think we can safely say that this one will be called something like Sphenodon gigantus.”

  “It’s new?”

  “Completely new. Or completely old, depending how you look at it.”

  Trigger joined them now, sitting on a mound the other side of Jules, his gun propped against his hip. He inclined his head in greeting, but didn’t join the conversation, choosing instead to pick up a stick and draw in the dirt.

  Taine turned back to Jules. “So, Singh and Lefty were right, then? It’s a dinosaur?”

  “Actually no, although Sphenodon were around at the time of the dinosaurs. Hang on, where did I put…?” She had a quick rummage in her backpack and pulled out a fork, which she held sideways. “If you imagine the flat part of the fork is a common ancestor, then these four tines represent: lizards and snakes; alligators and crocodiles; birds; and finally tuatara or Sphenodon.”

  He threw her a bleak smile. “Nice family.”

  “Exactly.” Jules rolled her eyes. “Our beastie probably shares some characteristics of each of the other groups, particularly the squamata – that’s lizards and snakes – but essentially it sits in a class of its own.”

  Taine said nothing. Even on its own, that thing was pretty formidable. He didn’t want to imagine what they could be in for if there were more than one of these monsters in the forest. How was he going to keep her safe? How was he going to keep them all safe? He whittled some more.

  “We need to know what we’re dealing with here, Jules. Do you think you and Dr Foster could put your heads together and come up with some ideas about the Sphenodon’s behaviour?”

  Smiling, she said, “Of course. I’d be happy to. Quite frankly, I could do with the distraction. I’ll go and talk to Richard now.”

  Getting to her feet, Jules brushed herself down and headed to the remaining tents, taking all the warmth of the fire with her.

  “Jules, aye?” Trigger said when she was out of earshot. His eyes stay fixed on his sand picture.

  Taine clenched his teeth. “You didn’t have to listen.”

  “I could hardly help it.”

  “Just gathering some intelligence,” Taine said, slipping the roughly carved wood in his pocket.

  Trigger nodded. “Makes sense.” He gave a small shrug and went back to his scribbling.

  Grunting, Taine stalked off to check the camp perimeter again.

  * * *

  Rotorua township

  Temera flicked through the pages of a Woman’s Weekly while he waited to see the doctor. Apparently he’d been lucky. There’d been an unexpected cancellation at the surgery, so Pania was able to get him in at short notice. “It’s just a routine check-up,” she’d said, but Temera hadn’t come down in the last shower. Wayne had brought him in for his annual wellness check back in November. Temera didn’t call her on it. Pania had his welfare at heart.

  But she wasn’t his daughter, so he made her wait in the waiting room.

  “How have you been, Mr Temera?” the locum asked. He was so young. He couldn’t possibly have spent seven years at medical school.

  “How old are you?” Temera demanded.

  “Thirty-two. How old are you?”

  “Isn’t that in your notes?” Temera waited while the locum clicked his mouse, then examined the screen.

  “It says here that you’re eighty-three, Mr Temera. Is that right?”

  “Must be, if it says so there.”

  “You look in pretty good shape for your age. Get plenty of exercise?”

  “I work in the garden.”

  “Good for you.” The doctor glanced over Temera’s head. Temera knows from previous visits it was where the clock sat. “Your niece – Pania isn’t it? – she tells me you’ve been having a bit of trouble sleeping lately? How long has this been a problem?”

  “Since I was nine years old.”

  “Since you were nine?”

  “Yes, but I think Pania wants me to talk about the last month.”

  “Is there something special about this last month?”

  Yes, there was something special about this month! A taniwha had returned to Aotearoa – the monster, no benevolent protector of the land and its people. He was vain and arrogant and meant to challenge the forest god himself. Even Temera, who had the gift of foresight, couldn’t tell who’d be the victor, only that the battle would be intense. He was worried for his people…

  The doctor didn’t notice Temera’s hesitation. His eyes were on his computer screen. Temera wondered if maybe he was checking his face-page thingy.

  “Like Pania said, I’m having a bit of trouble sleeping. Nightmares. They keep waking me up.”

  The boy-doctor looked up. “Nightmares?”

  “I shout in my sleep. Sweat. Pania says it’s like I’m terrified. Twice I’ve woken myself up, sitting up in bed. I’ve been waking Wayne and Pania, too. I’m so tired during the day that sometimes I fall asleep out in the potting shed.”

  “Uhuh. I see. Has anything been bothering you lately, Mr Temera? Anything that might cause you stress or anxiety?”

  Temera snorted. “Only the usual demons.”

  “The usual demons?” the doctor repeated. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Nothing. Just the usual stuff. Getting old. Life.” He shrugged.

  “Have you noticed any out-of-character feelings of aggression?”

  Now why would the doctor ask that?

  Temera felt a prick of shame remembering his outburst on the side of the road the other day. Luckily, Wayne had been ther
e to stop him doing something stupid. Perhaps Wayne had mentioned it to Pania? Mind you, that de Haas fellow deserved it; insulting other people’s beliefs and behaving like he was God’s gift. It wasn’t the first time Temera had felt the urge to lash out at someone, but he’d never actually acted on it before. Unnerved, he felt in his pocket for the packet of smokes there. He did it automatically, the way an infant reached for a cuddly blanket. Then remembered where he was.

  “I might’ve been a bit grumpy. Hardly surprising, since I’m not getting enough sleep.”

  “I see here in your notes that you smoke.”

  So he hadn’t missed that then.

  “Are you still at half a packet a day?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not increased it any?”

  “No.”

  “And you’re not smoking anything other than tobacco?”

  “Weed, you mean?”

  “For example.”

  “Nah.” Temera laughed. “Where would I get that?”

  More clicking, this time on the keyboard.

  “What about alcohol?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, good. Well, I’m going to send you for a couple of blood tests, Mr Temera, and perhaps a peak flow test just to be on the safe side. But I suspect what we’re dealing with here are night terrors. They’re more typically associated with children, but adults can get them too, particularly if they’re depressed or anxious. They’re usually not too serious. Mostly, they go away of their own accord. But I’m going to suggest that you keep a sleep diary anyway. That’ll give us an idea of your patterns of sleep. Do you drink tea?”

  Temera gave a grunt for yes.

  “Then you might try a cup of St John’s Wort before bedtime. If in a week your nightmares are still disrupting your sleep, I’d like you to make another appointment.”

  When Temera exited the doctor’s office, Pania uncrossed her legs, and replaced a dog-eared magazine on top of the pile.

  She stood. “Everything good?” Her expression was full of concern. She was a good kid, Pania.