Into the Mist Page 21

  “Jug could be fine, too. Doctors are smart. He’s probably holed up somewhere safe. Maybe even with Coolie,” Read suggested.

  “Yeah, could be,” said Trigger, putting his hand on Read’s shoulder. Miller kicked at a stone.

  Taine wanted to stalk over and punch Richard Foster into next week. That selfish piece of work had just got three men killed. Three! Including two of the finest soldiers he’d had the privilege of serving with. There was no time for grieving. For Jug or for Coolie. No time for Taine to mourn the loss of his friend. Standing smack in the middle of the creature’s hunting grounds, they were on the back foot, and the Sphenodon knew it. Taine had to get these people the hell out of here.

  Swallowing hard, he faced the group. “Okay, this looks like all of us for the moment,” he said. “We’re not getting out of the forest tonight, so we’re going to need a bolt hole to spend the night. Somewhere safe, or at least easy to defend. Nathan? Any ideas?”

  The guide rubbed his chin. “There are caves.”

  “Nearby?”

  Nathan nodded.

  “Can you find us one? One big enough for all of us?”

  A pause.

  “Nathan, it’ll be dark in a couple of hours, maybe less. We need a trench to hunker down in. Can you help us?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Read, I don’t want to see any more heroics, and that goes for all of you. Trigger, if you get a sight on that monster’s eye, shoot the goddamned thing.”

  Richard Foster opened his mouth to protest, but Taine cut him off. “And Trigger?”

  “Yes, Boss?”

  “If Dr Foster gets in the way this time, you have my permission to shoot him.”

  Foster paled.

  “Everyone stay close. Let’s move.”

  Chapter 24

  Jules slipped sideways on the soft ground, but Taine grasped her upper arm and hauled her back to her feet. The tread of her boots was clogged with slippery clay and almost instantly she tripped again, this time on a darkened log.

  The log moaned.

  Jules jumped, startled. “Wait! I heard something,” she said, pulling out of Taine’s grasp. Crouching, she shoved a large fern frond out of the way. A man’s gold watch glinted in the dim light.

  Jules’ hope surged. “It’s Jug! Taine, I’ve found Jug.”

  “What? Let me see.”

  Quickly tucking the fern leaf behind its neighbour, Jules stepped aside to let him through.

  “Jug, can you hear me, mate?” Taine put his gun down and leaned in to palpate Jug’s neck.

  Jules sucked in a breath. “Is he alive?”

  He nodded grimly.

  “Thank goodness—”

  “He’s going to wish he wasn’t, though,” Taine muttered. He stood, and it was only now, seeing Jug lying flat out, that she spied the tattered state of his clothes, the angry slice of bone jutting from his leg, and a wound the size of a saucer in his side. She covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Read, Eriksen, Miller, set up a perimeter. Nathan, Lefty, we’re going to need a stretcher. Use whatever you can find. Branches, shirts, whatever. Foster, see if you can help them.” He crouched beside Jug, then obviously thought the better of it, standing and turning again. “Miller, before you go…” he said.

  “What?” The young soldier seemed dazed.

  “Give me your bandage, will you?”

  “What?”

  “Your bandage! The one in your pocket.”

  Jules felt a jab of sympathy for him. Barely out of school uniform and faced with all this. Taine clearly understood his hesitation, because he tore open the Velcro of his own pocket and removed the dressing so Miller could see, his actions slow and deliberate. He ripped the wrapping apart with his teeth and packed the gauze gently around the crag of bone protruding from Jug’s leg, holding it in place with one hand. Flustered, Miller fumbled with his pocket, finally managing to hand Taine a second dressing.

  “Open it,” Taine said patiently. “And cut me down that branch too, will you? We’re going to need to immobilise his leg.”

  Miller fought with the wrapper.

  “Here, why don’t you give me the bandage?” Jules said gently, putting a hand out to him. “I can do that. You get the branch.” Her fingertips brushed his as she took the dressing. Miller jumped.

  Jules looked to Taine.

  “That branch,” he said, not moving his hands from the wound. He nodded at a flattish branch without too many burrs.

  “This one, Hamish,” Jules said, stepping over and placing a hand on the branch. With shaky hands, Miller pulled out a knife and began to hack at it, but Taine changed his mind.

  “No, that one won’t work. Maybe that one over to your right? Yes, that one looks more solid. And when you’re done, pass me your spare socks. I’ll need to pad the splint. Jug’s going to be in enough pain as it is.”

  While Miller cut the splint, Jules pulled one of her own t-shirts out of her pack to cover the wound at Jug’s side. Oozing and blackened, there didn’t seem to be much blood.

  “This looks like a burn,” she said to Taine.

  Taine nodded. “His gun must have gone off in the fall. He’s lucky it’s just a graze. It’s a miracle he didn’t kill himself.”

  Moments later, standing alongside them, his fingers gripping the splint, Miller looked as grey as Jug.

  “You feeling okay, Hamish?” Jules asked.

  “Just worried about Jug.”

  “He’ll live. It’s not as bad as it looks,” Taine said. “Is that the splint?”

  “Hang on,” Jules said, taking the branch from Miller. She broke off the protruding twigs before handing it to Taine, who laid it lengthwise alongside Jug’s injured leg. Then, taking care not to bump him, Taine lifted Jug’s good leg close to the injured one, and slipped the bandage under the gap in the doctor’s knees.

  “Your spare socks, Miller?”

  “Oh yeah. Sorry.”

  Hamish rummaged in his pack, eventually producing a pair, which Taine used to pack around the splint. Then he tied the bandage off against the splint.

  “A couple more – below the break, and at his ankles – should keep it still. Jules, can you see if you can locate Jug’s pack anywhere? Don’t go too far, just see if it’s somewhere nearby.”

  “Right.” Jules dropped to her hands and knees to search for Jug’s pack. She scrambled around in the undergrowth, lifting ferns and branches and sweeping her hands underneath in case the pack had rolled when Jug fell.

  “How’s that stretcher coming?” Taine said, glancing down the track.

  “Nearly done, Boss,” Lefty called back.

  “Jules? Anything?” Jules could hear the hope in his voice. Perhaps he’d hoped she’d find Coolie lying in the ferns, too.

  “No, not here. He must have dropped it earlier. I can’t see his rifle, either.”

  “The rifle we can do without, but I would’ve liked to have had his pack. Right now, he’s slipping in and out of consciousness, but when he wakes up properly he’s going to know all about it. I was hoping to give him something for the pain.”

  “I have some Paracetamol,” Jules said. She got to her feet. Straight away, she felt stupid. The poor man had a bone sticking out of his leg. Fat lot of good Paracetamol would do.

  But Taine disagreed. “Anything that could take the edge off his pain is good. I’ve immobilised it as best I can, but it’s going to be a rough trip. We’ll need to keep him quiet…”

  He didn’t need to tell her why. Slipping a hand into her pants’ pockets, Jules pulled out a silver strip of capsules.

  “I’ll crush a couple, see if I can get him to take them with some water when he comes to,” she said.

  Taine’s smile was grim. “That’d be great.”

  Lefty and Nathan brought the stretcher over and lay it alongside the medic.

  “Miller, come and lend a hand. We’re going to need the four of us on either side of him. Grip him by his clothes if you can, an
d try to keep your movements smooth. Jules, if you could support his head. On three. One, two, three.”

  Together, they lifted the medic onto the stretcher.

  * * *

  Lefty’s hands burned. A deep ache had set in across his shoulders and his forearms were pumped, the veins raised. Singh wasn’t a big bloke either, although the guy’s leg was fat enough now. The swelling had blown it up something ugly. Lefty shifted the weight of the stretcher in his palms. It was a small movement, but it made Singh groan. The sudden jolts of the last half hour must have been killing him.

  Poor bastard.

  At last, McKenna called a break, leaving Trigger, Read and Miller on guard, while he and Nathan scouted out a cave. Lefty and Eriksen put the stretcher down where they were. Lefty flexed his fingers, relaxing his cramped palms. Eriksen paused to check on the medic, although there wasn’t much they could do for him. They sat down beside the stretcher. Lefty took his water bottle from his pack, chugging down a few mouthfuls before offering it to Eriksen.

  “Thanks.” Eriksen drank deeply then screwed the lid back on the bottle. “You holding up?” he said quietly.

  “Yeah.”

  “Shitty day.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Scared?”

  Lefty paused. “A bit. Who wouldn’t be? You have to clock one up for the animal kingdom though, don’t you? That Sphenodon is more cunning than a weasel, going around our little herd, carving off the weak and picking us off one by one. Sooner or later, you’ve gotta think it’s going to get around to you.”

  “I’m trying not to think about it.”

  “Yeah, probably the best policy,” Lefty said. He reached out and snapped a small twig off a nearby mānukā, nervously stripping the bark off the smooth wood inside. “Look, about Sheryl, I’m sorry I went off my head the other day.”

  Eriksen said, “It’s not mine.”

  Lefty suppressed a wave of anger. Did he really want to start a fight now, while he was in the middle of apologising? There might not be time for apologising after. The way this fucking trip was panning out, there’d be a good chance neither of them would make it out alive.

  He did his best to keep his voice even. “Yeah, you already said. But Sheryl thinks it is.”

  “It’s not.”

  “So that’s it? She says it is and you say it isn’t and that’s the end of it? Come on Adrian, there’s a kid’s life at stake here.”

  “So? I’ve already got two kids. Sheryl knew I wasn’t looking to have any more. My divorce from Carla only came through two months ago.”

  Lefty shook his head. “How many kids you’ve got doesn’t change anything. If you didn’t want another one, you should’ve worn a rubber.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Eriksen took another drink.

  “Look, I know my sister. She likes her fun, but she’s not a liar.”

  Singh moaned softly from the stretcher. Lefty and Eriksen looked in his direction, but after a second the medic fell quiet again.

  Lefty continued to mutilate the stick, peeling back the layers of wood until a tiny pile of bark scrapings formed between his legs. “There’re some things you should know about Sheryl.”

  “I don’t want to hear—”

  “Come on, Adrian. Just hear me out okay? I might not get another chance.”

  Eriksen sniffed then nodded for Lefty to go on.

  “Sheryl’s old man wasn’t decent like mine. Shot through when she was only five. Then, years later, he went to court, rewrote history and got visitation. Those weekends, I used to hear Sheryl crying when she got home. She’d get into bed and hide her face under the covers, but I knew. Hank – that’s her dad – he’s the sort who gets off on running women down. Used to tell Sheryl she was useless at everything. They’d go to McDonalds and he’d tell her she was getting fat. She’d write him a story and he’d say it was dumb. Then, later on, Hank hooked up with someone else, had some other kids, and it got worse. Those kids were princesses compared to Sheryl, who was too fat, too dumb, too ugly, too useless – whatever.”

  “You trying to make me feel sorry for her?”

  “No!” Lefty snapped. He paused a second, inhaling deep to calm himself. “I want you to understand why my sister is the way she is. Sure, she’s flirtatious – yeah okay, I know what they call her behind my back – but I reckon all she’s ever wanted is someone to tell her she’s all right, you know? Make her feel special.” Lefty sighed. Talking about his sister had made him feel as worn and calloused as his palms.

  Eriksen didn’t reply, just sat there, turning the water bottle in his hands. Read signalled to say they were on the move again and they got to their feet.

  Eriksen passed Lefty back his bottle. “Tell Sheryl I’ll do the test. If the baby’s mine, I’ll see her right financially,” he said.

  “That’s great. Thanks man.”

  “But that’s it, okay? I don’t want to marry her.”

  Lefty’s mouth twitched. “Well, that’s good because you’re not my first choice for brother-in-law.”

  * * *

  Taine pushed his night vision glasses to the top of his head and wiped his forehead with his palm. His head was pounding, and he massaged his temple with his fingers.

  Foster stepped past him, pushing deeper into the cave. Miller did the same.

  “We all in?”

  “All in, Boss,” Trigger replied, the last of the group to squeeze through the narrow gap.

  They were lucky to find it. Nathan had nearly missed the cave. A recent rock fall had blocked part of the entrance, mud and stones making it even narrower than the guide remembered. It had been barely wide enough for Lefty and Eriksen to squeeze the stretcher through, their knuckles scraping against the rock as they stepped over the tumble of debris to descend into the cool of the cave.

  Too narrow for a certain Sphenodon, which makes it perfect for us.

  “Jules, you can take those off now,” Taine said, gesturing to her night vision glasses. She’d been wearing Jug’s pair. Too big for her, they made her look like a little insect. Taine was almost sorry when she pushed them up on the top of her head.

  Trigger and Miller used the lights on their picatinny rails to illuminate the cave. In spite of its less than impressive entrance, the inside was grand. A vaulted cavern, the ground sloped upwards on one side and tapered into a ledge. On the low side, a stream flowed from one end of the cave to another, entering and exiting at each end through holes in the wall.

  Lefty and Eriksen sat down where they were. Lefty threw his head back, and puffed out hard, his shoulders drooping. Eriksen dropped a hand on his back.

  “It’s like a cathedral in here,” Read said, walking deeper into the cavern.

  “Say some bloody prayers then,” someone muttered, Taine wasn’t sure who. Trigger maybe. Truth be told, a few prayers wouldn’t hurt. Taine sent one up to the gods for Coolie as he stepped across the cave to talk to Nathan.

  Seated on the sloping rock with his knees up, the guide had dropped his head into his hands. He breathed in and out, each intake slow and deliberate.

  “Nathan, you okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just not too keen on caves. Bit claustrophobic. I prefer to see the stars.”

  “Maybe not tonight, though?”

  “No, maybe not tonight.”

  They were quiet for a moment, Taine watching while Jules bent over Jug, wrapping more clothing around his shoulders and murmuring softly, as if she were tucking a child into bed.

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  Straightening, Nathan flared his nostrils and sniffed in. He clapped his hands on his knees. “No, that’s okay. I’ll be fine,” he said. “Just as soon as I get myself a beer from the bar.”

  Taine grinned. “Getting something inside you might help,” he agreed. “We’re all a bit low on reserves. I’m not sure about beer, but the staff here might be able to brew us up a mug of tea. Do you know if the stream water’s safe to drink?”
<
br />   “I’ve only been here once before, and I didn’t hang around, but as far as I know the water’s safe – only, be careful, because away from the banks, it could be deep. And we need to keep an eye out on the weather. A flash flood could trap us in here.”

  Taine glanced up at the entrance; a light grey stripe overhead. “It never rains, it pours, huh?” he quipped.

  “Something like that,” Nathan said wryly.

  * * *

  Belmont, Wellington City

  In his plaid dressing gown, James Arnold sat on the sofa in the dark, nursing a cold cup of tea and looking out over Wellington Harbour. There were one or two boats on the water, over Eastbourne way, and to his right, lights in the capital’s CBD winked on and off. The Hutt motorway was lit up like a glow-stick.

  A wet nose and a nudge.

  Placing his cup on the side table, James lifted the animal, plopping it gently on his lap. “Here we are again, Puss,” James whispered. “Two of us who can’t sleep.”

  The old girl turned a few times, her paws poking imprints on his thighs, until eventually she found a position she was satisfied with and settled down. She purred loudly, the vibrations rumbling against James’ stomach.

  There’d been no further news of McKenna and his men, or of Kevin’s section sent out earlier. There’d been a problem with the radio. Some damage. The corporal had mentioned it the last time he’d called in. And since then, there’d been no word, so the comms must have given up the ghost. Of course, there was no mobile phone coverage in there. GPS wasn’t much chop either. State-of-the-art technology and it couldn’t see past a few trees.

  They’d be fine, James told himself. They were big boys, and McKenna knew what he was about. Odds were, he’d walk them out of the forest in a few days and everyone would take a collective sigh and wonder what the fuss was about.

  Except, something very strange is going on in that forest.