Into the Mist Read online

“What? It isn’t with the body?”

  “No.”

  They searched the area for the Steyr, finding it buried in the ferns a few paces away.

  Taine picked it up. Examined it. “It isn’t jammed,” he observed, puzzled. “Why didn’t he fire?”

  “From what those two are saying, he might not’ve had a chance. But what they’re saying is—” Trigger stopped himself, taking a deep breath before going on. “Come on, Boss, surely you don’t believe that cock and bull story? A dinosaur? That’s just fucked!”

  Taine frowned, the rain dripping off his eyebrows. It was bizarre. But both soldiers were singing from the same song sheet, and unless they were on drugs, which Singh denied, Taine had no reason not to believe them. Besides, they’d both been carrying infrared gear: Wright with the IRAD inline night device attached to his rifle, and Singh wearing a pair of Mini N/SEAS goggles. That kind of technology, they could hardly have failed to see Winters’ attacker, even given the drizzle.

  “Taine?” Trigger prompted.

  “Sometimes stress plays tricks on a man’s memory.”

  “Yeah, but a T Rex?”

  “Why would they lie and risk becoming a laughing stock, Trigger?” Taine said. Someone carrying a torch was making their way down the creek towards them. “The thing is, the evidence fits: the injuries here on Winters’ body, the pig hunter’s disappearance, and before that, more than a dozen other missing people. Arnold was right. Something weird is going on in this forest.”

  Trigger looked up sharply. “Major Arnold knew?”

  Taine filled him in.

  “Something weird’s going on, I’ll give you that,” Trigger said when Taine had explained. “But a dinosaur…?” He shook his head; Taine’s account of the missing section wasn’t enough to convince him.

  “I know,” Taine said, grimly. “Even Ira’s fairies were more plausible.”

  The torch turned out to be Coolie, who joined them under the tarpaulin out of the rain. “I’ve left Read, Miller and Eriksen on sentry duty in case whoever did this comes back,” he said. “Singh is going to try and write up the post-mortem report. He’s shaky, so Dr Foster is helping him. Lefty has asked to bag up Winters’ body to take back. I’ve told him he can, but later, when we’ve finished the incident investigation.” Coolie shifted slightly, droplets of rain rolling off his wet weather gear. “Anaru isn’t going to be able to call this in, so one of us will have to do it.”

  “And say what?” Trigger snorted. “They’re going to think we’re crackers.”

  Taine told Coolie what they’d learned so far. His corporal gave a low whistle. “Interesting.”

  “Don’t tell me you believe them?” Trigger said, incredulous.

  Coolie shrugged. “Hey, I’m Chinese,” he said. “In my family, they believe cutting your toenails can conjure up a ghost. A dinosaur isn’t such a big jump.”

  “You do believe them, then?”

  Coolie scraped a clump of mud from his boot. “Singh doesn’t strike me as the kind to make this up. He’s a doctor. In his job he has to look at the evidence and, based on that, make a best guess about what a patient might be suffering. Sounds to me that’s what he did here. Examined all the evidence and came up with dinosaur.”

  “So you don’t believe him?”

  “No, that’s not it either. I believe he saw what he thinks he saw.”

  Trigger did a one-handed face-palm. “Say that again in English.”

  “He’s saying we need more information,” Taine interjected. “It could have been a bunch of separatists armed with a saw and dressed to look like a taniwha. Based on that evidence, Singh’s best guess would still have been dinosaur.”

  “That’s his best guess?” Trigger puffed the air out of his cheeks. “Geez, remind me not to get a pimple. He’s just as likely to decide it’s cancer and slice my bleeding nose off.”

  “Boss, we have to report,” Coolie said, interrupting Trigger’s bluster. He inclined his head at the mound. “We have a dead soldier.”

  He was right. They needed to report in. “For the moment let’s tell them the attack on Winters was witnessed, but the attacker has yet to be identified.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Trigger said.

  “Except the witness in question is MIA.”

  “We’ll resume our search at first light tomorrow, report in again as soon as we’ve found her,” Taine said, hoping when they did, Louise Hemphill would be able to tell them exactly who or what they were dealing with.

  Chapter 12

  Taine had Coolie and Trigger assemble the civilians.

  Released from his tent, de Haas emerged like an enraged ferret from its hole. “What the hell is going on, McKenna?” he demanded. “Your goons have practically had us under house arrest all evening! If this if some kind of stupid power game—”

  Taine cut across his tirade. “One of my soldiers has been killed.”

  Eyes wide, Jules brought her hands to her face.

  “Jesus,” said Ben.

  “Well, I’m hardly surprised,” de Haas said, turning on Taine, and poking an index finger into his chest. “I warned you, didn’t I? First night of camp high-jinks you called it! Which one was it? Wright or Eriksen? I sincerely hope you’ve put the other hothead under guard. We can’t have a crazed murderer sleeping amongst—“

  Taine looked down at the geologist’s finger, then to his face. “Neither Wright or Eriksen were involved, Dr de Haas. The camp was attacked by an… an outside threat. Anaru Winters was ambushed and killed.”

  “Oh no,” Jules said softly.

  “An outside threat?” de Haas ranted. “What outside threat? What sort of army-speak is that? And don’t tell me any more of your fairy stories.”

  Fairy stories! Taine rubbed his hand across his chin. What should he say? He could hardly believe it himself. “It’s too early to say more about the attacker or the attack,” he said carefully. “But we suspect Ms Hemphill witnessed the incident and was sufficiently traumatised to run into the bush in a panic. She has yet to be found.”

  Jules looked around the group. It was clear to Taine she hadn’t been aware her friend wasn’t with them. “Louise? Out in the bush? But she’s been with Dr de Haas, in his tent, discussing their results.”

  “What?” De Haas screwed up his face. “She hasn’t been with me.”

  Jules’ face drained of colour. “But she must have been with you.”

  “It’s true, Jules,” Richard Foster said. “There was just the two of us. Louise wasn’t with us when Corporal Liu asked us to stay in our tents.”

  She turned to Ben, her eyes imploring him for an alternative explanation.

  “Ms Hemphill isn’t in the camp, Dr Asher,” Taine cut in. “Singh and Wright are certain she ran into the forest after witnessing Private Winters’ death.”

  She looked at him, stricken. “Then go and find her! Please, Sergeant.”

  “We have been searching for her. My men have been out there scouring the bush for the past three hours.”

  Jules turned to push him, her palms flat against his chest. “Then go back and look again. Find her.”

  Taking her wrists gently in his hands, Taine shook his head. “We’ll resume our search in the morning when conditions improve.”

  Jules wrenched free, and turned to Richard Foster. “Richard, please, please help. Make them do something. Louise is out there in the dark. She could be injured. Cold...” She swivelled back to Taine, her face twisted in anguish. “We have to find her. We have to.”

  Richard put an arm around her shoulders. “Jules, it’s okay. I’m sure Louise will be fine. She was dressed warmly, and she’s sensible. She’ll have found herself somewhere sheltered…”

  Jules buried her face in Foster’s shoulder.

  Taine suppressed a wave of irritation. Foster just couldn’t keep his hands off her, could he? Had to be the hero. His fists clenched, Taine looked away. It was none of his business. She was none of his business. He was a soldi
er. He needed to concentrate on getting on with his job.

  Taine sucked in a breath. “The safety of the rest of the party is our first priority,” he said. “Until we can be sure what we’re dealing with, we’re asking you to please go back to your tents. My soldiers will mount a guard overnight, and we’ll resume the search for Ms Hemphill at first light. Corporal Liu will see you to your tent, Dr Asher.”

  “Winters is dead,” Taine heard Foster say to Ben when the civilians moved off.

  “It’ll be separatists,” Ben muttered.

  “Anti-mining protesters more likely,” Foster replied. “It wouldn’t be the first time an environmentalist has done something reckless. But sneaking into camp and killing a man – a soldier – that’s pretty serious.”

  “I just hope it wasn’t one of my people who did this,” Nathan said quietly.

  Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Jules looked like she was about to follow Coolie, but instead she paused, turning to Taine. “Sergeant?”

  “Yes, Dr Asher?”

  “I’m very sorry about Anaru Winters. I didn’t know him, but he seemed like a nice man.”

  Taine nodded. “Yes, he was a good man.”

  And he was also a soldier. Winters knew when he’d signed up that he’d be putting his life on the line. But like this? Taine had had to inform families before that their loved one had perished in the course of duty. It wasn’t common, but it happened: a shell hit the vehicle your son was driving; your brother was the victim of an unseen sniper; the building collapsed while his section was helping to evacuate civilians. This time though, the wording would be deliberately vague. Anaru Winters was killed tragically while carrying out his duties. Because how was he supposed to tell the man’s family, ‘Sorry, we’re not entirely sure, but reports suggest your loved one may have been ripped in half by an oversized reptile?’

  Jules turned to go, shoulders hunched.

  Taine reached out; his fingertips grazed her forearm. He snatched them back, then cleared his throat. “Dr Asher, I know you’re concerned about Ms Hemphill. I promise we’ll do everything we can to find her.”

  She looked at him a moment, and gave him the smallest nod before Coolie led her away.

  * * *

  When the civilians had dispersed, Taine and Trigger hurried to catch de Haas. “Doctor, can we have a word?”

  The geologist put his hands on his hips. “What?”

  “As soon as my men have located Louise Hemphill, I’ll be taking this team out of the forest.”

  “Sergeant McKenna,” de Haas said in a tone one might use with a small child. “It’s out of the question. This afternoon, after less than half a day of study, Ben Fogarty and I discovered a significant nugget where the trail crosses the stream bed. We’ll need time to verify the quality of the ore. This site might be New Zealand’s most important prospecting find ever. I don’t plan to leave without further investigation.”

  “I’m sorry, Doctor, but one of our party is dead – two if we include the pig hunter – and now Ms Hemphill, your assistant, has gone missing in the bush. We have grave fears for her safety.”

  “If they’re dead, then there’s no hurry, is there? They can wait another day, at least. And I’m sure Miss Hemphill will be fine. The silly woman will be holed up under a fern somewhere. You and your men can look for her tomorrow while I carry on with my work, which is the reason we’re all here in the first place.” He dropped his hands, a signal the interview was over.

  “Dr de Haas.”

  De Haas rolled his eyes. “What now, McKenna? It’s been rather a long day and I’d like to get some sleep.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to assume leadership of the Task Force.”

  “Really?” de Haas smiled.

  Taine wanted to throttle the man. People were dying. More might still die and yet de Haas insisted on playing these ridiculous little power games.

  “Well, we’ll see what the minister has to say about that, shall we? I’ll radio him first thing in the morning. I have my doubts about this outside threat. More likely it’s one of your men. We’ve already seen—”

  “What about a T Rex?” Trigger blurted, echoing Lefty’s account from earlier in the night.

  Dammit, Trigger, keep your mouth shut.

  “What?”

  “The outside threat that killed Winters,” Trigger said. “What if it was a lizard the size of a fucking shipping container? Would that change your mind?”

  “What’s he on about, McKenna?”

  “It’s what Singh and Wright are saying,” Taine said, aware of how it must sound.

  “A giant lizard? There’s no such thing.”

  “I realise it’s hard to believe – I’m finding it difficult to believe myself – but both men were equipped with night vision gear. They claim it’s what attacked Winters.”

  De Haas moved his face closer to Taine’s. “You must think I came down in the last shower. I expect your jarheads were fooling about with their toys – no doubt half of them are out of their skulls on drugs – and they’ve had some sort of mishap. It’d be just like the army to cover up their blunders—”

  At the geologist’s slur, Trigger stepped forward. Okay with passing comment on another soldier himself, Trigger wouldn’t tolerate it from an outsider.

  Taine stopped him with the smallest tilt of this head. “My men aren’t equipped with serrated kitchen knives, Dr de Haas,” he said quietly, his anger simmering just below the surface. “They could not have caused the kinds of injury sustained by Private Winters.”

  De Haas shrugged at that, his indifference infuriating. “Can I suggest you start searching the forest for someone with a kitchen knife then?”

  Taine bit back a retort. He inhaled, flaring his nostrils. “As it happens, Winters isn’t the first casualty. There have been other reports—”

  De Haas puts up his hands. “Not my problem. I will not be disbanding this Task Force.”

  Trigger spun away to face the bush.

  Taine cleared his throat; time for de Haas to understand his place in the pecking order. “Since you don’t believe there’s a creature killing people in the forest, I’ll assume you won’t require a security detail?”

  “I didn’t say that, McKenna. We can’t be too careful. Winters is dead, so there’s obviously some nutter running around out there. I’ll need you to leave some of your beefcakes here while you go off looking for the girl.” He turned to go. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get out of this rain.”

  “It’s a wonder he trusts any of us jarheads,” Trigger said, his eyes following the geologist across the campsite to his tent.

  * * *

  Jules trembled, cocooned in her sleeping bag, rain thwacking on the tent fabric. Poor Louise, out there somewhere in the bush, alone, soaking wet and possibly injured. It was like Sarah all over again. Only this time, it definitely wasn’t the forest’s fault. Louise hadn’t been the unlucky victim of a landslip or a rapidly rising river. McKenna said she’d been a witness to Anaru Winters’ murder and panicked, running into the forest to escape. It occurred to Jules that, unlike Sarah, who was assaulted by the forest itself, the shrouded mists and dense undergrowth might be Louise’s best allies, since Anaru Winters’ attacker was still out there. Whoever it was could be tracking Louise, hunting her down. She’d been a witness to murder after all. What if she could identify the killer? What if, because of that, the killer decided to eliminate her…

  Stop it! Too much late-night television. Anaru Winters was a soldier. Whoever had ambushed him – separatist, environmental frenetic, whoever – would have seen a soldier with a gun and felt it was a fair fight. In a war, there were always casualties. People with causes often thought like that.

  But Louise was a civilian.

  Jules turned sideways and curled herself into a ball, pulling the hood of her sleeping bag tighter around her head and neck. Even so, the chill crept down her back, making her shiver. She didn’t want to think about what mi
ght happen to Louise if this weather kept up.

  Or if Winters’ killer found her.

  Stop it. Just stop it!

  She was going to make herself sick if she carried on like this. There was no point worrying. There was nothing anyone could do until morning. All she could do now was hope Louise was safe and that she’d found somewhere warm to hide.

  But Jules’ mind strayed to Sarah’s crumpled body, and Louise huddled in the undergrowth. Perhaps she should’ve taken up Richard’s offer to share her tent so she wouldn’t have to be alone.

  “Jules, we’re all shocked,” Richard had said, after Coolie had seen her to her tent. “A man died tonight. Times like these it’s normal to want company.” Jules had been tempted, but there was something oddly cheerful in his manner. Did his comfort come at a cost? Jules had pushed that ugly thought aside. It was Richard, who knew her better than anyone. Not just her boss, but a man who’d been her friend for almost a decade. It was uncharitable of her to think Richard would want to take advantage of tonight’s situation. Jules had said ‘no’ politely anyway, telling him she’d prefer to be alone. Richard had sulked a bit, his shoulders sloped and his hair flopping forward as it always did, and urged her to think again, but after a few minutes and another promise to send for him if she started to freak out, he’d headed off to get out of the rain.

  Maybe it had been a mistake. It might have been nice to have someone to talk to. Anything to take her mind off tonight’s events. She wriggled, finding little comfort in the ground beneath her.

  She wondered how Winters had died. McKenna had been tight-lipped with the details. She hadn’t heard a gunshot, so it couldn’t have been a shooting. Unless separatists had silencers. Jules didn’t know. In any case, she hoped it was quick. Hoped he hadn’t suffered.

  Just hours ago Anaru Winters had been alive. Yesterday he’d sat across the campfire from her reading To Kill a Mockingbird. His second time, he’d said. His family would be devastated. Burying herself even deeper in her sleeping bag, Jules turned to the other side where Louise Hemphill’s bedroll lay empty.