‘Busy?’
‘What’s it look like, dude?’
‘I don’t know, Sol,’ he sighed. ‘I guess people have forgotten how to converse around here…’
Sol shrugged.
‘So I need your help with something,’ James added. Sol stared as if he’d just asked him to swim for help. ‘You game?’
‘Depends.’
‘On?’
‘On the game.’
Headache returning, James pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘We need to bury Gibson. I’d rather not do it alone.’
Expecting the Australian to refuse, he climbed doggedly to his feet. ‘Okay, let’s go. Then I suppose I might get some peace. Paradise my arse! Get me back to Bell’s Beach.’
Gibson waited just beyond the tree line, detached limb akimbo. He looked dismal, even pathetic. It took only a few minutes to locate a suitable ditch to inter the man, and only a few more to lower him gently in and cover him with bracken and shale. When they were done there was no trace of the pilot, no evidence there was even a body four feet beneath them.
Kneeling next to the burial site, Sol wheezed, ‘We done?’
‘You think maybe one of us should say a prayer or something?’ James suggested.
‘Knock yourself out, dude, if you believe in all that.’
‘It just seems respectful, you know. Only I don’t really know any. Do you?’
Sol smirked. ‘Oh yeah, dozens. I know the Bible backwards.’
‘Point taken. A minute’s silence?’
A noiselessness surrounded them. Sol appeared quite tranquil sitting next to Gibson’s resting place. Maybe he just liked the quiet. For more than the agreed minute the two survivors maintained their silence, their unshared reasons no doubt varying. When respects were paid and platitudes were whispered, James slipped peacefully away leaving Sol to his peculiar resolution.
Back in the camp Anthony was prodding the fire, a dented steel tray of fish lying by his side. Abbey was talking animatedly to him, about what, James could only guess; the conversation looked remarkably one-sided. So many things seemed to be going awry. Teri’s disappearance, the smashed transmitter, the rift developing between himself and Abbey; it felt like the whole thing was coming down around them. Strange happenings were occurring within the camp, bizarre lights in the trees. It was beginning to feel like a torrent of burden was weighing down upon him, pressing doggedly against his better judgement. He glanced solemnly across the camp.
Gradually, despair was taking over.
45
The terrain had become unfamiliar, though it hadn’t varied much from the ground already covered. Each new bay presented itself in different length or width. Some were harder to reach than others, some hardly bays at all, but in essence they were just more sand, more trees and water.
Walking alongside Abbey was Anthony. He hadn’t uttered a word since agreeing to come along, not even so much as a “watch your step.” She got the impression chivalry was something Anthony avoided rather than being incapable of. He had grown up with an abused sister, an abusive father, and a birthmark buying up permanent real estate upon his face; all things most others lived without, never had to cope with. Yet the man was still standing. She figured that had to be worth something.
Climbing down onto what she assumed to be the northernmost shore, Abbey waited as her companion jumped down after her. As his feet hit the sand he continued walking, not a word in her direction. So far there had been no sign of Teri, not a shred of evidence to suggest the tattooed girl had even been this far. Abbey began to curse her own hot head. What if James had been right? What if Teri had never strayed far from the camp and they’d found her already. Tail between her legs came to mind.
‘you don’t talk much do you?’ said Abbey at last. ‘Nothing wrong with that, not much of a talker myself.' Anthony just blinked. ‘But I’ll just...think aloud if you don’t mind. Helps me get my bearings.’
He glanced at her impatiently, his eyes saying clearly, “If you must.”
‘You’re not the only one with a messed up childhood, you know,’ she told him. ‘I grew up in foster care, made new brothers and sisters at a late age, though I was fortunate enough to be placed with a good family. But it wasn’t until I met Edward that my life began properly. We were college sweethearts. Right from the outset I knew he was going to be the one I’d marry. Before him I’d been trying to tick the boxes of what I thought I needed in a man, but with Edward there were no boxes to tick. He was just…Edward.’
No reaction from Anthony. Was he listening? Was he tuning her out?
‘I would’ve married him after our first date, you know. I’ve never told anybody that. But he always joked he wouldn’t marry me until he could afford to divorce me, the bastard. I suppose in a lot of ways, we were made for each other. I’m not exactly a picnic to live with, either. But when Edward’s dad died a couple of years ago I promised I’d always be there for him. It was like an unofficial renewal of our wedding vows. He already knew it, but I could see what it meant to him to hear the words aloud.’
‘Dying is easy,’ Anthony said quietly. ‘Living is the hard part.’
Abbey stopped dead in the sand.
Anthony paused and turned. ‘What happened to your real parents?’
‘What do you mean dying is easy?’
‘What happened to your real parents?’ he said again.
Unable to explain why, she wanted to respond to Anthony’s insistence. Was it excitement, she wondered, sharing things with a stranger? ‘They were murdered,’ she mumbled.
‘Speak up,’ he said sharply.
‘I said they were murdered!’
No reaction. ‘How?’
‘I was ten years old when it happened,’ she began solemnly. ‘Don’t remember much. My parents used to leave me
