Abbey jumped as Anthony spoke, almost forgetting she wasn’t alone. ‘We should go,’ he whispered calmly.
‘I think that’s Elaine,’ Abbey murmured. ‘We can’t leave her.’
‘We should go,’ he insisted.
‘No!’ she said firmly. ‘We need to see this.’
Falling silent, Anthony seemed to appease her and rested against the boulder. The pacing silhouette continued to bide his time until God only knew what, the kneeling figure shuddering groggily.
‘Seen enough?’ Anthony whispered.
Abbey hauled herself up and edged around the boulder for a better angle. As she pushed from the rock a clatter of stones fell away, rolled along the side of the boulder and came to rest in the undergrowth. Anthony closed his eyes in resignation as the pacing silhouette’s glinting eyes snapping in their direction.
She held her breath. The figure took a few paces their way, head cocked. Then he turned and walked steadily back to the kneeler.
Abbey couldn’t have anticipated what came next; nothing on earth could’ve prepared her. Without hesitation the pacer drew a blade from somewhere, looked directly at the cluster of boulders, and jammed it into the kneeler’s throat, twisting. The churning gurgle carried across the clearing as the blade was withdrawn. The body crumpled to the floor.
Abbey held a hand to her mouth, stifling the scream. She turned to find Anthony. He was gone.
Back in the clearing the knife-wielding silhouette was walking towards her, dripping blade an extension of his arm. Unconcerned for Anthony, she turned and fled. Trees came at her, disappeared behind. Intact branches swung for her head, the fallen kind grabbing at her feet. Over her shoulder was forbidden territory. Only once did she tumble into the undergrowth, her left knee taking the brunt of the impact. Unhindered further, she crashed onto the beach by the plane’s nose, minutes from the camp. Staying by the water’s edge she sprinted across the sand, the dying embers of the campfire flickering a million miles away.
Fifty yards from the camp.
Forty.
Startling her, Anthony pushed through the tree line unharmed. ‘Wait, Abbey,’ he grunted, catching her around the midriff. ‘It’s okay, it’s me…it’s Anthony.’
For a moment she forgot where she was. Tugging at his shirt, she freed herself from his grasp and spun in the sand disorientated. Finally, she screamed.
*
‘Abbey, I love my sleep, so for Christ’s sake tell me what’s happening!’
Stepping in for the distraught Abbey, Anthony said clearly, ‘We don’t know what we saw.’
‘What!’ Abbey wheezed. ‘James, you need to listen to me, okay. Something is happening here. I don’t know what, but we’re in serious danger!’
‘It was dark,’ Anthony interrupted. ‘We could’ve seen anything.’
Abbey’s face dropped. ‘What’re you saying? You were right there, you saw what I saw.’
With the slightest movement of his head, Anthony picked out Eric who had joined the affray. James spotted the gesture. ‘I’m just saying, it was dark, our minds were probably playing tricks.’
‘I think what Anthony’s trying to say,’ James cut in, ‘is there’s probably a more appropriate time to discuss this.’
‘No…no!’ gasped Abbey, close to delirium. ‘We talk about this now. Everybody needs to hear this. You too Eric.’
Unconvinced by his own judgement, James ceded. ‘Fine,’ he muttered. ‘Go ahead, tell us what happened.’
Everybody was awake now, absorbing the remaining heat from the dying fire. The girl stared into the flames in nonchalance, Oli ghostly pale. The student looked sick.
‘I was woken by a scream,' Abbey mouthed, 'scared the shit out of me. When I checked the tents, a handful of people were missing.’
‘My mum’s not in our tent,’ said Eric, confused.
‘Anthony was awake too,’ she went on. ‘So we decided to take a look.’
‘I thought Anthony was injured,’ James observed.
‘Still am,’ the scarred man said.
Turning back to Abbey, James said, ‘Why didn’t you wake me?’
‘We don’t need you for everything,’ Anthony interrupted. ‘In fact we don’t need you at all.’
James narrowed his eyes in confusion. ‘Someone better tell me what’s going on. Enough games.’
‘We…’ she paused, anxious expressions waiting eagerly.
‘Abbey?’
‘We saw somebody being murdered.’
An ethereal quiet descended upon the camp.
‘You…you what?’
Abbey reached for her grazed knee, brushed away the stubborn dirt.
‘You both saw this?’
‘He saw it too,’ she answered for Anthony.
‘Who?’ James asked incredulously. ‘Who did you see being murdered?’
‘It was too dark,’ she uttered. ‘But he knew we were there, James. He knew he was being watched. It was almost like he wanted us to see!’
James planted himself down on the sand. He believed Abbey, no question. Was this the convict Elaine had told them about? Had she been punished for divulging? He glanced from frightened face to frightened face. More questions. No answers.
Spying movement along the sand, unified heads turned to see Sol wandering shirtless into the camp. He stopped flat when he found the others still awake. James bore down on him as he walked amongst them. ‘Where’ve you been, Sol?’ he began coldly. ‘And no more of this “I like being alone” bullshit, that’s not good enough.’
Away from the moonlight, he swore the Australian smirked. ‘That would be none of your fucking business, dude.’
‘Well let’s just say that the escalation of events has made it my business.’
Sol ran a hand through his matted locks, fingers snagging in the knots. ‘You’re barking up the wrong piss-pole, people. Whatever’s going on here, you self-destructive freaks figure it out for yourselves. Leave me out of it.’
‘Mum?’ Eric called out suddenly, pathetically.
‘When I first saw you that morning, Sol, you were pilfering luggage. What were you looking for?’
‘I told you, man,’ he
