Into the Mist Page 27

  “You’ve had another one of your dreams, Uncle.”

  “Ah.” He was back in the present. No longer in his dreams. He didn’t remember coming back through the forest. The morepork had abandoned him there. Temera had been sure he would die in his dreams, his wairua following so many others and slipping into the ocean far away at the tip of the country… and yet here he was, in his bed in his nephew’s house.

  Pania appeared at the door now, tying her dressing gown about her waist. Her hair was tousled and her eyes looked tired. “What’s going on?”

  “Just another of Uncle’s nightmares,” Wayne said.

  “Wayne—”

  “Pania,” Wayne said softly, and Temera caught his look, his eyes begging her to leave off. “Not now, love. He’s a bit disoriented.”

  Pania chewed her bottom lip. Temera could tell she didn’t want to put off the conversation, but she thought the better of it. “I’ll make us all some tea, shall I?” she said cheerfully. “Bring it through.”

  Wayne smiled at that. “That would be great, love.” He cuffed Temera on the shoulder teasingly. “Since we’re all up and awake. A cup of tea’ll be just the ticket.”

  She left the room.

  Temera put his hands behind him and shuffled himself backwards until he was sitting. The sheets were damp with his perspiration. Temera slipped a hand under the covers and checked out his nether regions. His pyjamas were damp, but not sopping. He hadn’t wet himself, although he was frightened enough.

  But had they succeeded? Temera closed his eyes, straining to grasp at the last tattered threads of his nightmare. He could see the morning mist, thick and grey, rolling through the valley on its ghostly raids through the trees. There was a flash of the taniwha, its haunches rippling, spines erect. It hurtled through the air, lunging at the bait McKenna had set for it. The woman’s face, her terror. Temera screwed up his eyes, a dull ache throbbing at his temples. He wrapped his arms about himself and concentrated. There had been bellowing, screaming. Temera had felt it fall… had it died? Had McKenna killed it? Was the forest free? Or was the taniwha still out there, hunting him?

  The last dregs of the nightmare faded…

  Temera threw off the covers, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and immediately felt his bones ache. But this was not the time for him to be whinging about his age.

  “We have to go,” he said.

  “Go?” Wayne said, puzzled. “Go where? It’s not even 5:00am. Nothing will be open now.”

  “Not to the shops. To the forest. The Ureweras.”

  Wayne shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t take you out there today. I’ve got to go to work.”

  Temera put his hand on his nephew’s knee. “It’s the last time, Wayne. I promise. Folk need our help. They could be hurt.”

  When Pania entered the room, their tea on a tray, Temera was sitting on the bed, fully dressed and struggling to reach the laces of boots.

  “What’s going on? Why are you getting dressed? It’s the middle of the night.”

  “We have to go into the forest,” Temera replied.

  She frowned. “You’re going out now?”

  “We have to.”

  Her lips tight, Pania put the tea tray down on the dresser, and went to the room next door.

  Temera grabbed his Swanndri from the closet, yanking it off its hanger, and put his ear to the wall.

  “Wayne? What’s going on?” Pania said, her voice barely muffled. There was a whump as Wayne’s pyjamas hit the washing basket.

  “Uncle Rawiri’s had another one of his premonitions.”

  “Again? Wayne, you can’t just go careering off every time your uncle wakes up from a bad dream.”

  “Just this last time.”

  “You know you shouldn’t be encouraging this. Taking an old man out in the cold to go traipsing around in the forest in the middle of the night. We’re supposed to be taking care of him, getting him help.”

  “Baby, he’s really distraught.”

  “All the more reason,” Pania said. Temera imagined her folding her arms.

  Wayne sighed. “Pania, my uncle is a matakite. He sees things. I’ve told you about the geyser that came up in our yard when I was a kid. If he hadn’t warned my parents to keep me indoors, I wouldn’t even be here now. We wouldn’t be having this conversation. I owe him my life.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. You’ve told me the story. And I know you love your uncle. I love your uncle. But Wayne, you’ve been up there already. Sitting out there on the road since the summer, warning people off going into the forest. Indulging him like this isn’t working. Whatever is going on in that head of his, he’s becoming obsessed with it. He needs help.”

  His nephew must have turned away then, because Temera didn’t hear his reply.

  After a while, Pania went on, her voice rising. “Even if there is someone hurt out there, the forest is huge. How will you find them? On a premonition?”

  “Let me humour him one last time, please,” Wayne said.

  They stopped talking. Quickly, Temera stepped away from the wall, putting on his Swanndri, battling to get his arms into the sleeves, and he stepped into the hall. Wayne was already there, his arms around Pania.

  Agreeing with her, or kissing his girlfriend goodbye?

  “You ready?” Temera said, hardly daring to breathe. What if Wayne said no? How would Temera get there? He’d have to steal Wayne’s truck.

  But, grabbing the keys off the hall table, Wayne nodded at Temera.

  They were going! So Pania said yes. Wayne was going to drive him. Awash with relief, Temera hurried down the hall to the back door after his nephew, giving Pania a grateful pat on the back when he passed.

  “Wait!” Pania said.

  Wayne stopped in mid-step, his hand poised on the doorknob. Temera’s heart thudded.

  “If someone is hurt up there, then you’re going to need the first aid box. It’s under the sink in the bathroom. Uncle, you grab some blankets from the cupboard in the spare room. I’ll put this tea in a thermos and see if I can rustle up some food.”

  Temera swallowed. She really was a good kid, that Pania.

  Chapter 30

  Te Urewera Forest, heading south

  Nathan lifted his hand.

  “Is it the Sphenodon?” Richard Foster whispered, his face pale.

  Nathan shook his head. He raised two fingers at Eriksen, indicating the bush to their left. Eriksen slipped off the trail on the opposite side.

  “I don’t see what you’re—” Foster started.

  “Shh,” Nathan said, interrupting him.

  The bush parted and Eriksen herded two men – boys really, neither of them much older than Nathan’s grandson, Brandon – into the clearing. Nathan recognised the pair from Te Kooti’s group.

  “Mr Kerei,” one said, stepping forward. He threw a nervous glance back at Eriksen’s gun. “My name’s Jason, and this here is Danny.” He scuffed his boot in the dirt. “We were wondering if you would mind if we travelled with you?”

  “Why?” Nathan said.

  “Yeah,” said Eriksen. “I thought you lot didn’t like the army.”

  “That’s Te Kooti. Not us. We’ve got nothing against the army, have we, Danny?” Jason nudged his friend.

  Danny shrugged. “Nah, we’re good,” he replied.

  “What about a Tūhoe traitor like me, then?” Nathan said with quiet anger.

  “Danny and I are Tūhoe too,” said Jason. “Family. We don’t want any trouble with family.”

  Eriksen lifted his chin. “What about your mate, Te Kooti? If I let you join us, I don’t want him picking a fight with us further down the trail.”

  “Oh, you won’t see him,” Jason said quickly. “He’s taken the boys east, somewhere up near Opōtoki. Decided he wanted to be closer to town. Nearer the pub.” He grinned weakly.

  Nathan folded his arms across his chest. “Why didn’t you go with him?”

  Jason picked at his fingers. He swallow
ed. “Got a bit sick of the bush,” he said. “Thought I might go back to uni.”

  Nathan raised an eyebrow.

  * * *

  His shoulders on fire, Taine staggered, his legs buckling under the weight on his back. He grabbed at a branch to stop himself from going down, hardly feeling the pain in his hand as he lurched forward. At the last second, he found his balance and righted himself.

  Too close.

  Breathing hard, Taine looked to the newbie – hardly a newbie now – following with Jules. Read threw him a look, but Taine shook his head at the unspoken request – Trigger was his responsibility.

  “You okay?” Jules asked, coming up alongside Taine, her eyes filled with concern.

  “Just catching my breath,” he said. He gave her what he hoped was a cheery smile.

  “We could help, if you’d let us…”

  “I’m fine, Jules.”

  “You look exhausted.”

  In fact, Taine had never been so tired. For hours now, he’d carried Trigger through the bush without a spell. There was nothing else for it. Read was willing enough, but with a sprained ankle he was limping as it was. Mercifully for Trigger, he’d lost consciousness hours ago, his groans slowing to nothing. Now all Taine could hear was his quiet breathing. From time to time, Trigger gave an involuntary jerk. Taine marvelled at the human body’s response to pain, shutting down, focussing on only essential functions. Taine, too, dreamed of oblivion; his legs felt like he’d been on the hack squat machine non-stop for a week. Enough of feeling sorry for himself! He needed to keep going. Trigger’s life could depend on it.

  Using his arms to push himself off the tree, Taine forced himself to advance. His legs slowly found their rhythm again and he plodded forward, breathing through his nose, his lips clamped shut.

  They were going on instinct now, heading vaguely north-east, hoping to reach the road. A niggle worried at his mind. They hadn’t been moving fast, but they should have made it by now. Taine prayed they hadn’t missed it. Easy enough to pass right by if there was no traffic to alert them. Given the nature of their mission, Arnold wouldn’t have made a public song and dance about it, but Taine hoped he had the army patrolling the roads, looking for them. With a bit of luck there’d be a Unimog just around the bend.

  “Light, up ahead,” Read said. “I reckon the trees might be thinning.”

  Taine barely had enough energy to lift his eyes. Could they have found the road? Or just another clearing? They’d been disappointed before. Gently, Taine hoisted his friend higher on his back. He took one step, and then another, counting them out in his head. Every step another half metre closer to the edge of the trees.

  Suddenly, Read was shouting, and the weight on his shoulders lessened. Trigger was falling off his back.

  “No!” he shouted, adrenaline surging. He stumbled sideways.

  Read barrelled in. “Careful there,” he said. “The big guy’s injured.”

  “Jesus,” a man’s voice came at a whisper. “Quickly, help me get him in the back of the truck,” he said. “We need to get him to hospital.”

  The weight lessened. It’s help. Someone on the road, helping them. Read. Trigger. Taine slumped in relief. Suddenly, Jules was there, her hands on his cheeks, steadying him. “Taine, you did it. It’s over,” she said. “You got us out.”

  Even streaked with tears, she was beautiful. Holding her gaze, Taine kissed the inside of her palm.

  The man’s voice again. Insistent. “The blankets in the truck – Miss, can you lay one out, while we carry him over there?” Jules hurried away.

  Shattered and dazed, Taine closed his eyes.

  It’s over.

  The Sphenodon was dead, buried. It seemed so long ago… The climb to the opposite side of the ravine, to the boulders teetering near the top. Using de Haas’ pick as a crowbar to create a landslide. Rocks tumbling to the valley floor, burying Sampson’s remains, and Louise’s body, wedged in its crevice. Taine felt a pang of sadness for Louise’s family. It’d be hard on them, not knowing – but the truth was crueller. When the rocks had settled, he’d taken the longer route back to the cliff edge, where he and Read had hoisted Jules up from the ledge…

  Someone laid a hand on his shoulder. Taine turned, exhausted. The old man. The one from the blockade. Temera.

  Creases formed at the edges of his eyes, and the old man reached into his Swanndri. On a string at his neck was a bullroarer, the twin of his own.

  Taine looked at Temera. But he… Taine squinted a little. He’d seen the old man before, and not just on the road.

  “You were there,” he whispered. “The boy.”

  Smiling, Temera nodded.

  Taine ignored his outstretched hand. Instead, close to collapse, he reached out and clasped the old man to him.

  * * *

  Te Urewera Forest, Heading South

  Jug could hardly believe it. They’d reached the Waikaremoana tourist trail! Wide and well-maintained, it was like a state highway after what they’d been through. They might just make it. Calling a break, Eriksen kept an eye on Te Kooti’s boys, while Nathan and Foster slipped into the trees for a leak. Lefty and Miller put the stretcher down.

  “Hamish? Would you mind passing me a drink, please?” Jug pointed to the bottle of cold mānukā tea. Crouching, Miller handed the bottle to Jug, his eyes rimmed red from lack of sleep and heaven knew what else.

  “Thank you,” Jug said.

  “No worries.”

  “You sure about that?” Jug said, keeping his voice low.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I’ve been thinking about when I had my accident. You were there in the forest with me. We were hiding together.”

  “Yes…” Miller said carefully, “… and then you fell and shot yourself.”

  “I fell and shot myself.” Jug twisted the top on the water bottle. He took a sip. “The thing is, that’s not how I remember it.”

  Surprise flashed across the boy’s face, but he quickly got himself under control, laughing nervously. “I think you’ve been drinking too much of Nathan’s happy-tea, you know that?”

  He was about to stand, but Jug laid his hand on his arm. “That’s not what you’ve been taking though is it, son? You’ve been taking something much, much stronger. You forget that I’m a doctor, Hamish. I’m trained to recognise the signs. Besides, it’s easy enough to verify with a simple hair follicle test…” Jug trailed off deliberately.

  Miller’s eyes hardened. He shrugged off Jug’s hand. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he hissed under his breath.

  Jug looked at him. “Yes, you do. You know exactly what I’m talking about. So here’s the deal. If we make it out of this forest, then I’ll continue to have amnesia. I’ll continue to say ‘silly me, my gun must’ve gone off when I stumbled’, and I’ll go on saying that for as long as you stay clean. But if I hear anything, anything at all, that suggests you’re using again, if I see something that makes me suspect, if I even hear a rumour that you are taking drugs again, then you’re going to find that my amnesia is suddenly cured.”

  Miller opened his mouth to protest, but Lefty returned, allowing Jug the last word. Jug hoped it was enough.

  “On three,” Lefty said. “One, two, three, lift.”

  Jug lay back and closed his eyes.

  * * *

  James braced himself as the Unimog bounced over the pothole. “What about that track?” he said. “Just ahead on the right.”

  At the wheel, Dawson said, “We’ve already checked that one, Major.”

  “It was hours ago,” James said, his fingers gripping the dash.

  The radio crackled. Dawson pulled up, stopping the vehicle in the middle of the road. “Dawson.”

  James stared into the trees.

  “Yes, I’ll tell the Major. Out.” Dawson put the vehicle into gear, turning the steering wheel hard right. “They’ve located them, sir. A couple of civilians picked up four people east of Maungapōhatu. There�
�s a casualty—”

  “McKenna?”

  Looking over her shoulder, Dawson reversed the vehicle. “They didn’t say.”

  “We need to get to Rotorua Hospital.”

  “Already on it, sir,” she said.

  The Unimog swayed when they took the bend. A man wearing long-johns and carrying a gun ran onto the road in front of them.

  “Look out!” James shouted.

  Dawson had seen him. She braked, the Unimog lurching to a stop.

  The man halted, panting. Wild-eyed, he stared at James.

  Seconds passed.

  When he didn’t shoot, James reached for the door handle, but the man bolted, disappearing into the mist on the other side of the road.

  Chapter 31

  Wellington, Three Weeks Later

  Ken picked up his phone. “Regulatory Policy, Chesterman speaking.”

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  Australian accent. Female.

  Ken smiled. He’d wondered when the bitch would call. Getting up from his chair, Ken closed his office door, then, faced away from his Conservation Department staff to Roseneath on the other side of the harbour. “I’m sorry, who is this?”

  “You know exactly who this is. Where the hell is that Task Force?”

  “What task force?”

  “Don’t play silly buggers with me, Kenneth,” the woman snarled. “I can still make that phone call.”

  He needed to play this carefully. Andrew was gone, but he’d asked Sandra for a divorce and it would be inconvenient if the information about their liaison came out now. He kept his voice even. “The recent mineral exploration team to Te Urewera forest? Would that be the one you mean?”

  No answer.

  Ken smirked. He returned to his desk. “I have the report right here on my desk. What is it you’d like to know?”

  “Where the fuck are they?”

  “The Task Force has been disbanded; Dr de Haas and Mr Fogarty agreed that the site didn’t warrant exploiting. Both consultants have returned to their native countries.”

  “Fogarty wouldn’t have said that.” The tone was glacial.