‘God will welcome these souls into Heaven, Anthony.’
‘How convenient.’
Tears in her eyes, Elaine uttered, ‘I shall pray for you tonight. I shall pray that God has looked upon these remarks with sympathy.’
Anthony turned away. ‘Prayer means nothing.’
‘How can you say that? Prayer is the most powerful tool we have.’
‘Talking to thin air is not power, it’s called gullibility.’
‘Let me tell you something, Anthony,’ Elaine said firmly. ‘Last year I was in Daga Medo, Ethiopia, doing some volunteer work. Their colonies were dying out. Crops dehydrated to the point of decay, land infertile. It hadn’t rained in months. The starvation there was breathtaking.
‘One evening, three colonies came together and prayed for water, and you know what happened, it rained. The very next day. So the next time you think about ridiculing prayer, why don’t you spare the people of Daga Medo a thought? Try telling them prayer isn’t powerful.’
Anthony was stony-faced. ‘You think I’m a virgin to prayer? For years I knelt by my bed and prayed. I prayed that my father wouldn’t come through the door, whiskey on his breath, and take my sister away with him. For years he brutalized her, his only daughter. He destroyed her in every way imaginable. I prayed to God for it to stop. I prayed for anything. And when He didn’t answer, I realised the truth. I was speaking to nothing but empty space. Your God can go fuck Himself.’
Elaine paled further. ‘Anthony,’ she murmured. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…I didn’t…’
Waving a hand in dismissal, Anthony walked towards the shore. Abbey went after him.
‘I am truly sorry, Anthony,’ she called out. ‘I…I honestly didn’t mean to…’
Intervening, James said, ‘Okay, Elaine, leave it alone.’
‘But I didn’t mean –’
‘I know. But what’s said is said. Let him cool off.’
Backing away, Elaine fell to the sand and buried her face in her hands. For the first time, she appeared her age, frail.
Further along the shore they could make out Abbey talking with Anthony. The conversation wasn’t long. In under a minute she came walking back towards them, the light evening breeze teasing her hair. ‘He’s okay,’ she said rejoining the group. ‘Just wants to be left alone.’
‘I didn’t mean to upset him?’ Elaine assured them.
Abbey took a seat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. ‘So, what next?’
Looking to the top of the human structure, James took a deep breath. ‘I guess we light it.’
*
After commandeering Sebastian and disappearing for nearly forty minutes, James returned with several large water bottles stuffed into his rucksack, the South African likewise.
After revealing that amongst the wreckage he’d spied the fuel tank, he and Sebastian had filled the empty bottles with the remaining avgas – aviation gasoline as Gibson had reliably told him it was called – and returned, prepared to douse the beach’s centrepiece.
Everybody took a bottle and began liberally soaking the bodies, the wood. Advising everybody to step away, James said, ‘When we light this thing, it’s going to burn a hole in the sky. It’ll be going all night. If any transport passes, they won’t be able to miss it.’
Elaine said coyly, ‘Does anyone mind if I say a prayer? It seems appropriate.’
In Anthony's absence, no one objected.
Interlocking her fingers, Elaine began reciting a homemade prayer. Watching transfixed, Abbey clung to the woman’s words. They were eloquent, sugar-coating their bleak predicament; words of departed souls, God’s infinite love, Heaven and water. Anthony was not mentioned. Only silence followed the Amen, the subtle breeze rustling the fronds in the darkness behind them.
Pulling the lighter from his pocket, Sebastian rolled the flint, each of them drawn to the tiny orange flame flickering with the tide. ‘Any volunteers?’
Nobody spoke up.
‘Didn’t think so,’ Sebastian murmured.
‘If you don’t want it,’ said James, ‘I'll do it.’
‘And let you take all the credit? I’ve got this, chief.’
Sinking to his haunches, Sebastian held the flame out in front of him, flickers of uncertainty passing across his face. Nobody breathed.
As the flame touched the grizzly spectacle, it sprang up into the night sky, the first of the corpses engulfed in blue tongues. Abbey took a step back as the heat licked outwards, the others following suit. Soon the entire human structure was ablaze, the tips of the flames casting off flicks of ember into the torched night sky. All present stood hypnotically in gruesome awe as skin frazzled, flesh melted.
The smell wasn’t so bad, thought Abbey. Beef or pork maybe? The coppery tinge of blood. She couldn’t look away, drawn in like a child. The scene was brutal, carnage, but it was beautiful; a magnificence was being shared between the living and the dead. For those condemned to the flames, it was judgement day, redemption day for those who were not. Offering a departing gift of beauty, the deceased displayed their glory in spectacular unity, the living receiving it with open arms.
Noiselessly, they watched the flames for over an hour. Then, one-by-one they began to depart. James disappeared first, then Sebastian, Elaine, the others. Eventually, only Abbey remained.
With no one else around, she watched the flames lick higher, another soul depart. There were no words for what had taken place here, there was no splendour. Death lived here now. Only death.
Today’s word: Fuck.
36
Cutting into the dim confines of James’s tent, a single shaft of light speared through the blankets, waking him from a dreamless sleep. Outside he could hear excited voices accompanying birdsong, melodious notes carried upon the morning.
Pushing his way onto the sand,
