Dead Island

Koritoia-Ope stepped even closer to her, put his hands on her arms to steer her away. Purna shrugged him off.

‘Get off me. What are you hiding?’

The witch doctor jabbered at her, his eyes flashing, his lips curling back to reveal teeth sharpened to points.

Stepping back from him, Purna raised her flashlight and shone it around his body on to the opposite wall. Between two rows of alcoves was an arched opening sealed not only by a stone slab but a boulder almost as big as the one at the mouth of the cave, which had been wedged up against the slab to keep it firmly in place.

‘Hey!’ Purna shouted, her voice echoing around the walls. ‘Anyone in there?’

There was a renewed flurry of scratching.

‘There is someone!’ Purna said.

‘Unless it’s some kind of animal,’ replied Sam.

‘Knock if you can hear me,’ Purna shouted.

There was a pause, and then a bout of weak but unmistakeable pounding from the other side of the slab.

Without hesitation, Purna swung her rifle from her shoulder and pointed it at Koritoia-Ope. ‘Step back,’ she said.

The witch doctor looked almost incredulously at the gun and started speaking again. Although they didn’t know what he was saying, they could tell from his tone that he was pleading with them, trying to make them understand the folly of what they were doing.

‘Back off,’ Purna said more firmly, jerking the gun to indicate that he should move aside.

Koritoia-Ope looked furious. Clearly he thought she was doing something very foolish indeed. He began to rant at her again, waving his arms.

‘I said … Back. Off.’ She jabbed him with the barrel of the gun, forcing him to retreat a few steps.

Koritoia-Ope shook his head and controlled himself with an effort. When he next began to speak he did so quietly and earnestly, clearly trying to appeal to her reason.

‘Sam, do you think you can roll that boulder away from the door?’ she said.

‘I can try,’ said Sam. Hesitating, he added, ‘You do think we’re doing the right thing here, don’t you?’

Purna flashed him a disbelieving look. ‘Releasing someone who’s been sealed behind a wall and left to die? You can’t be serious?’

‘Yeah, but what if it’s like … a criminal or something? What if it’s someone who’s done something really bad?’

‘That still doesn’t mean they deserve this.’

‘Or, OK, what if it’s a custom or some kind of ritual we’re messing with? You know, like the Aztecs? They had that whole Perfect Victim thing going on. Guys who wanted to be sacrificed to the gods, ’cos it was like this great honour.’

The pounding, though weakening now, was still continuing.

‘I get the feeling that whoever’s in there doesn’t really want to be,’ Purna said.

‘OK,’ Sam said, holding up his hands to concede the point. Watched by a horrified Koritoia-Ope, he walked forward and put his shoulder to the rock. Using all his strength, he heaved, and little by little was able to push the boulder away from the door. Without the boulder jamming it in place, the slab was easier to shift. It scraped, centimetre by centimetre, across the rocky ground until there was a gap big enough for someone to slip through.

Still keeping Koritoia-Ope covered with the rifle, Purna handed Sam the flashlight. He shone it into the gap between the slab and the doorframe, and his eyes widened.

‘Holy shit!’ he said.

Purna glanced at him. ‘What do you see?’

‘A girl,’ said Sam. He held up his free hand in a calming gesture, clearly intended for the girl to see, and said, ‘It’s OK.’

‘A Kuruni girl?’ Purna asked.

‘Maybe, but she’s wearing normal clothes. Western clothes, I mean. She’s been tied up and gagged.’ Even as he was saying this, Sam was laying the flashlight aside, crouching down and reaching forward through the gap.

‘It’s OK,’ Purna heard him say again, his voice slightly muffled. ‘We’re here to help. We ain’t gonna hurt you.’

Next moment he was backing out of the gap with a young girl in his arms. She looked half-dead, her clothes torn and dirty, her face filthy and tear-streaked, her head lolling.

Gently Sam lay her down on the rock-strewn floor of the cavern and tried to untie the vines securing her wrists.

‘Shit,’ he said after a moment. ‘This is impossible. You got a knife or somethin’?’

‘In my backpack,’ said Purna, one eye on the girl, one on the witch doctor.

Sam found the knife and returned to the girl. He cut away the gag around her mouth and then the vines securing her wrists and ankles. He winced at the ugly red weals caused by her constraints and hoped that the loss of circulation in her hands and feet hadn’t caused her any permanent damage.

‘You’re OK,’ he kept saying, ‘you’re safe now.’

Although she seemed dazed, the girl nodded.

‘You understand what I’m saying?’ said Sam, surprised.

‘Yes,’ whispered the girl.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Yerema.’

‘Hi, Yerema. I’m Sam and this here’s—’

Before he could say Purna’s name, there was a sudden shriek and Koritoia-Ope leaped forward. Taking advantage of Purna’s momentary distraction caused by Yerema’s confirmation that she could speak English, he shoved the Australian girl aside and snatched up a jagged fist-sized rock from the floor. Still shrieking, he kicked Sam hard in the side of the head with the flat of his foot, stunning him, and raised the rock, clearly intending to smash it down on the girl’s head.

He was just about to deliver the first blow when two shots rang out. Koritoia-Ope was hurled forward across the girl’s body, ragged bullet holes opening in his back and gushing blood. The rock dropped from his hand and rolled harmlessly away into the darkness. For a few seconds there was silence.

Then Sam groaned and sat up, rubbing his head. A little dazed, he looked at the dead witch doctor sprawled across the terrified girl’s body.

‘Oh, good work,’ he muttered.

‘I had no choice,’ said Purna tightly.

‘You OK?’ he asked Yerema.

The girl gave a single jerky nod.

Sam grabbed Koritoia-Ope’s arm and hauled him off Yerema’s body, then helped her to sit up. Turning his head to look at Purna he said, ‘Let’s just get that sample and get the hell out of here.’

Chapter 17. CAGED ANIMALS

‘HEY, YOU’RE BACK! So how’d it go?’

Logan jumped up from his bunk as Sam walked in to the tiny room they were sharing at the research centre. Sam groaned, shrugged off his backpack and dumped it in the corner along with his gun.

‘Don’t ask,’ he said, staggering over to his own bunk and collapsing on to it.