‘We?’ I said, stammering slightly because I was both eager and surprised. Since I’d begun working with Jed he’d only gone dope collecting once, and he’d left me behind at our look-out spot. ‘You mean both of us?’
‘Sure. We’ve got plenty of time to come back here later, and we can take the chance they won’t do anything while we’re away. Anyway, I noticed camp supplies are getting low.’
‘I think it’s a great idea!’
‘OK.’ He stood up. ‘Come on then.’
¦
The pass between the island’s two peaks was the one position from which you could clearly make out the location of the dope fields, although the fields themselves were obscured behind trees. The only thing you could see were sudden dips in the canopy where one terrace dropped down to another. From higher up the terraces seemed to merge into a single slope with occasional – natural-looking – breaks in the canopy, an illusion caused by the elevated angle. I guess it stopped them being spotted from the air.
Once we reached the pass, Jed made the closed-fingers pointing gesture and we began our descent into the DMZ – as I’d decided to call it. While we walked, I watched Jed’s feet closely. I’d noticed he was able to walk much more quietly than me, even though we were both treading on the same mixture of dead leaves and twigs, and I was determined to discover how he did it. One thing was that he used the flat of his foot instead of the ball. I’d been doing the opposite, simply because my instinct was to walk on tiptoe when trying to move without noise. But after watching him, I realized that my way lacked common sense. By spreading the pressure across his whole foot he put less weight on twigs and flattened an area of leaves instead of just one or two. When I swapped to his method, I heard the change immediately. The other thing he did was to lift his feet quite high, so that they weren’t skimming just above the surface of the ground and catching loose material.
In order to press these lessons home, I played a private game as we crept through the DMZ. If I snapped a twig then I’d triggered a land-mine, and if I rustled a leaf above a particular volume – a rustle that couldn’t pass as a regular jungle sound – then I’d been shot by a sniper. I also decided that the spider-web strands which occasionally stretched across the path were Claymores, and took care to step over them if they hadn’t already been broken by Jed. In deference to video games I gave myself three lives, allowing an extra life if I saw any animal larger than a beetle before it saw me. The only flaw to the game was that there was no punishment if I lost all my lives – as I did several times. But the shame was punishment enough, and that one flaw aside, the game proved to be excellent.
I was enjoying myself so much that I was a bit pissed off when we reached the dope field. At the edge we crouched in silence for several minutes, checking that the coast was clear. Then Jed turned to me. ‘OK,’ he mouthed, pointing at me. ‘You go.’
I raised my eyebrows and touched my chest, and he nodded. I grinned and gave him the thumbs up. Then I hunched down as low as I could go without being on all fours, and scuttled forwards.
Between the trees and the start of the dope field was a space of at least three metres, well beaten down where the guards made their patrol. Once clear of the trees I looked both ways and sped across the gap. I was mindful that a guard might appear at any moment, so I wasted no time in trying to pull off a few good-sized branches. But I immediately ran into difficulty. The stems of the marijuana were remarkably tough. I twisted and ripped, as quietly as I could, but was completely unable to get them free of the main stalk. Worse, my hands were sweating like mad and infuriatingly slippery, and I couldn’t get a proper grip. I looked back at Jed, who had a hand clamped to his head in despair.
‘What do I do?’ I mouthed.
He held up his knife, waving the point sarcastically. I realized I’d scuttled off before he’d had a chance to give it to me. Cursing my haste I cupped my hands, indicating he should throw it. The knife came sailing through the air and finally I was able to sever the troublesome stems. In order to compensate for the fuck-up I hung around a minute longer than I had to, so I could return with a particularly daring sized bunch.
¦
‘What’s the matter, Richard?’ said Jed, when we’d got back to the safety of our look-out position. ‘I thought you’d be happy after all that excitement.’ He patted me affectionately on the back. ‘I thought you’d be singing that ridiculous mouse song.’
I shook my head and laid out my bushel. ‘I’m fine, Jed.’
‘It wasn’t that thing with the knife, was it? That was my fault, you know, not yours. I told you to go before I’d given it to you.’
‘No, no. The knife thing didn’t bother me…not much anyway…and it wasn’t your fault. I should have stopped to think. But I’m fine, really.’
Jed seemed unconvinced. ‘I know what it is. You wanted to spot some of the guards, right?’
‘Well…’ I shrugged. ‘It would have been interesting.’
‘I don’t know, Richard. You get disappointed by all the wrong things. Listen, take it from me, you’re glad we didn’t run into anyone.’
‘Sure…’ I thought for a moment, idly plucking at a couple of buds.’…Out of curiosity, what do you think would happen if they were to find us?
‘Mmm…don’t know. Rather not find out.’
‘Do you think they’d kill us?’
‘It’s possible. In a way I doubt it though, because there’d be no sense to it. They know we ‘re here and vice versa, and neither of us wants our secrets to get discovered, so…’
‘I heard that Daffy once talked to them.’
Jed looked surprised. ‘Who told you that?’
‘Uh…Greg, I think.’
‘I think maybe Greg has that wrong. Sal would have told me if there’d been any contact with them, and she never has.’
‘Oh…So what if they caught Zeph and Sammy? That would be different, because they’re not connected to us.’
‘Yeah. They might kill Zeph and Sammy.’
‘That would solve our problem at least,’ I suggested cautiously, waiting for Jed to say something disapproving, but he didn’t. He just nodded.
‘Yep,’ he said bluntly. ‘It would.’
? The Beach ?
61
Zombie Fish-Eaters
It was dark by the time we got our act together. We had to jump into pitch blackness, unable to see the edges of the pool or even the white foam where the waterfall landed. Then we had to find our way through the forest, something I’d have found difficult without Jed to guide me.
My plan was to eat some food quickly and spend the rest of the evening swimming in the phosphorescence. I also wanted to tell my friends about the sleeping dope guard, which had slipped my mind in the excitement of the previous night. But when I got to the kitchen hut, I discovered that our banana-leaf food parcels were missing. All I found was a cold pile of boiled rice. Next, I hunted for the big cooking pot, assuming Unhygienix had just forgotten to lay the fish and veg out, but the pot was empty too. That was strange because usually the cooks kept some dregs for the next morning’s breakfast. Pensively, I patted my empty stomach and looked around me. Then I noticed something else, even more strange. Apart from Jed, who was sitting a few metres away, the clearing seemed to be completely empty. I couldn’t see any joint-butts glowing in the darkness, or torches inside tents.
I walked over to Jed. ‘You notice anything weird?’ I said.
He shrugged. ‘Only that I can’t see my food.’
‘Well…exactly. There isn’t any food. And there aren’t any people either.’
‘People?’ Jed shone his Maglite around him.
‘See what I mean?’
‘…Yeah.’ He stood up. ‘That is weird…’
