Swat. Slap.
‘Simple, I'm organic,' said Oli with a wink. 'I’m studying law at UCLA. It seems there’re only about one in ten people in Hollywood not trying to become an actor or a singer or something, so that makes me the one in ten. Anyway, I wish I could say my time at university was passing amiably. I’m not exactly jock material which, in the current narrative of society, makes me a nerd. And there doesn’t seem to be much of an in-between.’
James frowned. ‘What’s in New Zealand?’
Again, Oli hesitated. ‘I was on an excursion with some other students. They weren’t on the plane. I lost them in Port Elizabeth. Or they lost me if you want to cross-examine. Went to use the bathroom in a restaurant and when I came back they’d taken off. I don’t know if they ditched me or just didn’t miss me. Either way, it made me feel pretty crappy.’
James shook his head. ‘There were no tutors taking headcounts?’
‘It wasn’t an official trip. The Student Union put it together. We’re considered adults so the lecturers left it up to parental consent.’
‘So you just wanted to continue alone.’
‘Yeah, screw them!’ Oli said venomously. ‘The trip was bought and paid for so I figured I’d finish it.’
James had to admit, he’d got Oli all wrong. To carry on alone with a tour like that took guts. In the same situation there would’ve been many a kid - and no doubt some of the jocks - quickly on the phone to their parents crying to them to get them home.
‘So what’s your story?’ Oli asked.
James raised his eyebrows.
‘You originate from somewhere, right?’
‘I’m from West Virginia originally, but I’ve spent some time in London recently. Went there for a job.’
‘Doing what?’
James paused, then said, ‘IT.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Oli grinned. ‘What field? I’m pretty useful with a computer.’
‘Never would’ve guessed.’
‘Come on, what field?’
‘I can’t get into it, Oli. Some of it’s classified.’
‘Oh, come on, man, don't be like that.'
James leant forward and rested his elbows on his knees. ‘Just drop it,’ he muttered with a note of finality.
Holding up his hands, the student ceded. 'How did you come to be on that airplane?'
‘I was on my way to see my brother in Wellington. Haven’t seen him in years.’
‘So why not fly into Wellington?’ Oli probed.
‘North Shore was the only flight I could get yesterday.’
‘Was he expecting you?’
‘He and his family, yeah.’
The gap between them brimmed with quiet. Finally, Oli muttered, ‘They’re not going to find us, are they?’
James raised his eyebrows.
‘The Indian Ocean is enormous, how could they know where we are?’
James climbed to his feet and stretched his back. ‘You know, for a law student, you ain’t that bright, friend.’
‘Gee, thanks.’
‘Three things. First of all, because of satellite, over ninety-five percent of the world’s islands are now discovered. Hell, this one probably even has a name. Secondly, we were on a flight plan that’s recorded at both ends of the journey. And finally, hidden amongst that mess on the beaches is the Black Box, which gives off a locating signal. So, bearing that triple whammy in mind, combined with a bitch of a walk up a steep hill, I’d say you should sleep soundly tonight!’
‘You state your case solidly,’ the student admitted. ‘Have you ever considered a career in law? Still, I put it to you that nothing could be working after that crash. If the Black Box was giving off a signal, it sure as hell isn’t now.’
‘They say those things are indestructible,' argued James.
Oli appeared to relax. The reality was, James had only spoken a partial truth. Yes there’d be parties looking for them, no doubt about it. Whether or not they find them was a different story. None of them knew if the plane had been on course when it went down. If they'd been dragged off the flight plan, Black Box or not, the search teams would be pissing into the wind. If they didn’t find any wreckage along the route, what then?
He said, ‘We still have a hill to beat. You all set?’
Oli climbed to his feet. ‘As I’ll ever be.’
*
Reaching up over the edge of the plateau, James probed the rocky surface for some kind of grip-hold. Thrusting himself up over the lip he rolled onto his back, winded. He opened his eyes to a cloudless sky. The sun was floating directly overhead, beating down on them cruelly. Minutes passed before Oli clambered up over the lip and lay beside him, wheezing.
‘Is it easier on the way back down?’ he panted. ‘Some Chinese tortures aren’t as nasty as that.’
James grunted.
‘You didn’t think I’d make it, did you?’ Oli gasped.
‘Never doubted you!'
‘Oh ye of little faith. Tell me again why we did that?’
James climbed to his feet and held out a hand to Oli. ‘Stand up.’
At the southern edge of the table, the pair feasted on the view. ‘Whoa,’ muttered Oli.
‘Agreed.’
Laid out before them was the island in its entirety, every inch of beautiful scenery waiting to be explored. Putting to bed any doubt that they were on an island and not headland, the only colour visible offshore was the different hues of blue meeting over the horizon. About four or five miles around, something like fourteen or fifteen bays skirted the trees.
Below they could clearly see the front end of the plane, mangled back end spanning out into the water. In the next bay over, the tailfin stood out like a shark’s fin. And out in the clear water huge dark shapes lay visible beneath the surface, sections of the plane lying dormant on the seabed.
Further along the same beach they could see the others moving about like ants.
The density of
