The Beach

At the exact moment I said ‘path’ Bugs jumped to his feet. His dreamy goodwill was out of the window. His eyes were wide and his teeth were bared. ‘What the fuck was that noise?’ he hissed.

Everyone turned to look at him.

‘What was that fucking noise?’

Unhygienix laughed sleepily. ‘Can you hear noises, Bugs?’

‘It was…a branch being pushed. It was somebody pushing through branches.’

Sal pulled herself out of the lotus position to sit on her knees. ‘…Are we all here?’ she said, scanning around the sprawled figures.

‘I’m not really here, ’ drawled Jesse. ‘I’m not really anywhere.’

Bugs took a step away from the blackness outside the marquee. ‘Somebody is definitely out there.’

‘Maybe it’s Karl…’ someone offered.

Several heads turned to me.

‘It isn’t Karl.’

‘Jed?’

‘Jed’s in the hospital tent.’

‘Well if it isn’t Karl or Jed…’

‘Wait!’ Cassie was standing too. ‘I heard something!…There!’

We all strained our ears.

‘It’s nothing,’ Jesse began to say. ‘Will you all relax? It’s just this strange trip…’

‘This is no fucking trip.’ Bugs interrupted. ‘Everyone, get your heads together. I’m telling you there’s people coming.’

‘People?’

And suddenly we were all rising to our feet, because we could all hear the noise. It was unmistakable. People, pushing through branches, walking on leaves, coming our way from the waterfall path.

‘Run!’ Sal shouted. ‘Everyone run! Now!’

¦

Too late.

A figure materialized within four metres of us, picked out by the oily flames around the marquee. Within seconds, more appeared by his side. They all had their guns up, levelled straight at us. None seemed wet, so they couldn’t have jumped from the waterfall. Maybe they knew a secret route into the lagoon or had used ropes to abseil the cliffs, or maybe they simply floated down. The way they hovered in the darkness, it didn’t seem unlikely.

I turned to look at my companions. Apart from Etienne and Francoise, I doubt any of them had seen the VC before and I was interested to see their reaction. It was suitably awed. A couple had dropped to their knees, Moshe and one of the gardeners, and the others were frozen in a perfect tableau of fright. Slack jaws, tensed jaws, arms bunched up to chests. I almost envied them. For a first encounter, it took some beating.

? The Beach ?

100

Apocalypse

I had realized that escape was not an option and we were all about to get killed, and accepted the realization without bitterness. There wasn’t anything I could do to stop it happening, and I felt I’d be dying with a clear conscience. Although I’d known that Vietnam might end this way, I hadn’t run. I’d selflessly stuck around until I was sure that my friends would be able to run with me. For once, I’d done the right thing.

And this is why I was furious that the VC weren’t doing the right thing. They weren’t doing the right thing at all, and I was outraged.

As I’d turned back from looking at my companions, I saw the dope-guard boss jab a finger at me. The next moment, one of his men dragged me out of the marquee and forced me to the ground. Appalled, it dawned on me I was going to get shot first.

First! If I had to get shot, then tenth, eleventh, twelfth – fine. But first. I couldn’t believe it. I’d miss out on everything.

The guard rested the muzzle of his AK against my forehead. ‘You’re making a big mistake,’ I said angrily. ‘You’re really screwing up.’ I tilted my head at Moshe. ‘Why don’t you do him instead? What difference does it make to you? Do him.’

His sleek face gazed down at me indifferently.

‘Him, for Christ’s sake! That ape!’

‘…Aape.’

‘Ape, you fucking slope! You dink mother-fucker! That gorilla! Him over there!’

I pointed at Moshe, who moaned feebly. Then the guard behind kicked me in the back.

‘Oh shit,’ I gasped as red pain burned into my kidneys.

Unable to stop myself I rolled over on to my side, and saw my friends. The tableau didn’t seem to have shifted, apart from Etienne, who had covered his eyes.

‘OK.’ With an effort, I got back on to my knees. ‘At least let me choose who does it.’

I didn’t make the mistake of pointing again. Instead I swivelled around so that it was the kick-boxer’s gun that was aiming at my head.

‘I want this guy. Fair enough, right? Get him to do it.’

Kick-boxer frowned, then glanced over at the boss. The boss shrugged.

‘Yes you. You with the dragon tattoo.’ I paused, then had a look at his mouth. It was closed, pouting slightly with his puzzled expression. ‘Guess what? I know you don’t have any front teeth!’ I showed him mine and gave them a tap. ‘Missing, huh?’

He lifted a wary finger and touched between his lips.

‘That’s right!’ I yelled. ‘You don’t have any front teeth! And I already knew that!’

The kick-boxer kept his finger in his mouth a few moments, exploring his gums. Then he said something to the boss in Thai.

‘Ah.’ The boss nodded. ‘You the boy always come to see us…Every day, ha? You li’ to come see us.’

I glared at him. Then, to my surprise, he squatted beside me and ruffled my hair.

‘Funny boy in trees, every day. We li’ you too. Take some Mary-Jane, ha? OK Mary-Jane. Some Mary-Jane, for you frien’s.’

‘Hurry up and kill me,’ I said bravely.

‘Kill you? Ah, funny boy…I no’ kill you now.’ He ruffled my hair again and rose. ‘I no’ kill anyone now,’ he said to the huddled figures under the marquee. ‘I give you warning. You people here, tha’ OK for me. One year, two year, three year, no problem, ha?’

If he was waiting for a reply, none came. This seemed to piss him off. He took a slow lungful of air, then flew into a hysteria of rage. ‘Bu’ now, you makin’ problem! You makin’ bad fuckin’ problem! ’

There was complete silence as he reached into his pockets and pulled out a piece of paper. Even the cicadas seemed to have got the message. ‘You makin’ maps!’ he screamed. Half the next sentence was lost on me, drowned out by a pounding in my ears. ‘…Bu’ why you wan’ do tha’? Maps bring new people! New people here! New people are danger for me! Tha’ is bad fuckin’ danger for you! ’

He hesitated, and with the same bewildering abruptness, became calm again. ‘Okey-dokey,’ he muttered. Then he dropped the map on the dirt, unholstered his pistol, and fired a shot into it. The shot missed but was close enough to send the paper fluttering into the air. For the second time I was deafened. The muzzle had only been a foot away from my head.

When my hearing began to return, the boss was chatting away in an eerily conversational tone of voice. ‘So,