The Hunting (13 page)

‘I think I know what happened here, guys. They simply ran out of money.’

She turned around. She was suddenly alone. Cary and Denis were gone. The lights abruptly clicked off. She took in a sharp breath. She was underground and it was freezing cold. It was scarily dark. She didn’t even know where the door was, didn’t even know the code to get out. She suddenly felt very scared and alone.

‘Denis?’ she shrieked. ‘Denis, the code, the code!’

She sat up and banged her head on the bulkhead.

‘Ow.’

‘Code?’ Renée asked. ‘What code?’

Genie stared at her in amazement. She’d been dreaming, of course, but it had been so very real. She felt cheated and frozen to the bone.

She suddenly noticed they were violently rolling and Renée had been sick in the bucket. Moucher was whining and the noise of the wind outside was terrifying. How long had she been gone?

‘Shiiiiit!’ Rian was suddenly yelling up on deck. ‘Hold on to something, there’s a huge—’

A giant wave came out of nowhere and rolled over the yacht; water poured into the cabin as the whole vessel tipped almost ninety degrees to one side, throwing Renée, Mouch and Genie against the hard cabin wall.

‘Close the hatch,’ Rian was yelling as Genie tried to get up, water sloshing around her feet. The bucket of sick rolled by; Renée, she noticed, looked green.

Suddenly they were in a major storm and the waves rolling under and cresting over them were enormous.

‘Where the hell did that come from?’ Renée was complaining.

‘Severe depression,’ Genie reminded her as more seawater crashed down into the cabin.

Mouch stood up, dripping wet. He barked once and another wave hit the yacht broadsides, a ton of water just poured in and scooped Moucher out with it as the yacht righted itself.

‘Mouch!’ Genie yelled. She didn’t think, not even for a second. She just launched herself after him.

‘Genie, no!’ Rian yelled after her. Renée screamed. But Moucher and Genie were gone.

Rian urgently throttled down, trying to turn the boat head on to the waves. It was truly scary out here in this squall. The wind howled around them and the rigging was loose, clanging against the mast. Rian had to cling on to the wheel as he searched for the flashlight.

‘Renée, the flashlight? We’re in some mini-tornado or something. Can you see her?’

Renée had the flashlight and was fighting her way to the hatch. She couldn’t believe Genie had gone after the dog. She’d drown for sure.

‘Genie?’ Rian was yelling against the wind.

Renée was out of the hatch and had it half closed as Rian snatched the flashlight from her and began to sweep the water.

‘Genie?’ Rian yelled again as the boat rose and fell with the huge swell. The yacht creaked and, as another wave swept over them, Renée nearly went with it too. She wrapped her arms around the mast and began to pray.

‘The lifebuoy! Throw it out!’ Rian was yelling at her, but she didn’t know how to get to it without being thrown overboard herself.

Rian judged his moment between swells and ran for it, got it out and into the water, making sure the lifeline around it was secure to the yacht. Another wave lashed them and he slowly made his way back to the wheel to bring the yacht around again to face the waves head on.

Renée took the flashlight from him and began to sweep for Genie.

‘How far does it go?’ Rian was asking, not expecting an answer. ‘Genie! Genie!’ he yelled again, the wind snatching away his words.

Renée thought she heard a shout. She swung round and thought she saw Moucher. It was impossible, he was in front of them, not behind. Something was moving in the water.

‘Moucher?’ Renée screamed. ‘This way!This way!’

Moucher was paddling for all his worth towards them now he had a light to guide him. But where was Genie?

Rian felt the lifeline to the lifebuoy tighten. For one second he glimpsed the automatic light attached to it.

‘Genie?’ He began to haul it in, amazed, like Renée, that it was in front of them. The current had to be real strong around here.

They both heard the whistle. Genie was communicating at least.

Rian pulled harder. The line suddenly grew heavier.

‘She’s got him,’ Renée announced.

‘Close the hatch fully,’ Rian told her. ‘Let the pumps deal with the water.’

Renée struggled to close it, her feet slipping on the wet deck, but got it closed – just in time as another huge wave washed over them. She held on grimly, cursing the weather and everything she could think of – including Moucher, who was blameless really.

Rian continued reeling in Genie and Moucher, his hands red raw and freezing now.

‘We going to sink?’ Renée asked.

‘No, these boats are built to survive. We haven’t gone over yet. Give me a hand.’

Renée grabbed the line and they both pulled. The boat was in a dip but as they rose again, the flashlight caught Genie and Moucher in the lifebuoy for just a brief moment, just a short distance away.

‘Haul!’ Rian shouted.

‘I
am
hauling.’

Rian grabbed Moucher first, opened the hatch and dropped an exhausted dog down into what looked a lot like a swimming pool. He didn’t protest.

Genie offloaded the lifebuoy and made her way up the stern ladder. The flashlight revealed she was bleeding, but she was OK. She couldn’t say anything, she was so cold, and dropped down into the cabin without a word. Renée squeezed Rian’s arm and followed, firmly closing the hatch after her.

Rian got the engine revved up again and moving. He didn’t want it swamped, and a hard-working engine would maybe get them closer to shore and shallower water. He was angry. Angry with Genie, Moucher, his life and everything. He didn’t want to speak to anyone right now. He looked at the compass. They were way off course – he wasn’t sure where the hell they were – and they were pretty much out of fuel.

He wondered how long the batteries could keep the pumps going and how long it would take for them to clear the cabin of water. It began to rain – heavy, unforgiving rain – and he couldn’t see hardly any distance ahead, but he sensed that the sea was growing more calm and the waves, though big, were not so violent.

He throttled down to save fuel and kept a steady course. Land would be on his right, but as for Gibsons? He had no idea. They’d most likely run dry before he found out.

Renée opened the hatch and handed him a plastic cup.

‘Drink this.’

He drank whatever it was and nearly spat it out. Brandy. He swallowed, felt his chest implode, but it did the trick, he was instantly warm again, even if only for a little while.

‘You could have warned me!’ he yelled, but Renée had already disappeared back inside.

Inside the cabin Moucher was lying on a bunk, Genie towelling him off, trying to revive him. He was silent, occasionally retching up seawater. Renée was trying to fix a bandage on Genie’s head from the first-aid kit.

‘You are so lucky,’ Renée told her. ‘So lucky. Jumping off like that? What were you thinking?’

Genie looked at her and pulled a face. ‘I wasn’t thinking. But I got him back. Besides, I was wearing a lifejacket.’

‘
We
got him back. If we hadn’t thrown the lifebuoy you and that dog would still be out there, or floating dead. Genie, it was stupid and irresponsible.’

Genie guessed it was true, she had been stupid. But Renée didn’t understand her attachment to Moucher. The dog was her talisman. She had to save him. Had to.

‘I think I need another sip of brandy and maybe Mouch does too. I think he’s in shock.’

‘Rian’s the one in shock,’ Renée told her. ‘You are so going to have to apologize to him.’

Genie nodded. She knew she’d put them all at risk. ‘I think we’re out of the storm now. Ouch. My lip is bleeding. Those lifebuoys are hard, y’know. Nearly knocked my teeth out when you threw it.’

The hatch opened and Rian looked down. ‘We’re coming through it. The pumps working?’

Renée nodded. ‘Draining fast.’

‘You OK?’ Rian asked Genie. ‘You’re bleeding.’

‘Sorry, Ri. I really am sorry. I wasn’t thinking.’

Rian shook his head. ‘You’re here. Mouch is back. That’s all that matters. But if anyone can find me something dry and warm to wear and some more cocoa, I know someone who will be a lot happier.’

He withdrew and Renée shut the hatch tight.

‘He forgives pretty easy,’ Renée told her.

‘He loves me. You’re supposed to.’

‘I think maybe Mouch needs to apologize to him too,’ Renée said with a smile.

Mouch coughed up some more seawater and lay down and began to lick himself. It was a good sign.

‘Cocoa. There’s still a litre of milk left. Make cocoa. I’ll look for something dry for him.’

Renée nodded. ‘I saw stuff in a cupboard by the toilet.’

Genie found a fisherman’s sweater. It was well oiled and stank. It was about Reverend Schneider’s size. It would swamp Rian; nevertheless it would keep him dry.

‘I need to get out of these clothes, but there’s only this.’ She held up an XL-sized T-shirt that said:
The Lord Knows Everything
.

Renée smiled. ‘Well, I hope the Lord hasn’t told him what we did to his yacht.’

Genie laughed, then winced as her mouth hurt. ‘I so hope we never meet him again. I still can’t believe I haven’t shot him. I know that ain’t exactly Christian, but he is truly the most evil man on earth, Renée.’

‘The most evil man on earth is the man that owns the Fortress, Genie. That’s evil. Remember that.’

A few minutes later they handed a frozen Rian some hot cocoa and he shed his wet clothes for the huge sweater. It was dry and warm and he even smiled.

‘I got good news and bad news,’ he told them.

‘Uh?’ Renée asked. ‘Bad news first.’

‘We’re pretty much running on empty.’

‘And the good news?’

‘I have no idea where we are. Somewhere off the Sunshine Coast, but …’ He shrugged.

The engine cut out.

Renée was right. Bad news first.

‘What now?’

‘We drift.’ He was looking at the rigging and wondering if he could get the sail unfurled. Be better than drifting out of control.

‘Great,’ Genie replied. Then she frowned. ‘Don’t think I’m any crazier than you already do, but I can smell land. Well, forest anyways.’

Renée sniffed the air and shrugged but Rian stood up and faced the wind. ‘You’re right. Wind’s completely changed direction. It’s coming off the land. Score one for Genie Magee.’

‘Is that good?’ Genie asked.

‘If I can free the sail we’ll be fine. Current is moving towards land, but the wind is blowing against us.’ He sipped the cocoa. ‘Mmm, good stuff. Hot.’

‘Enjoy it, that was the last of the milk,’ Renée told him.

Genie was staring at the barometer. ‘If anyone ever tells me they’re down, I’m going to tell them wait until they get “severe depression”.’

‘Stop with the weather stuff, Genie. I’m so not ever going to go sailing again. What happens now, Ri?’

Rian was climbing towards the mast. He could see that he was going to have a job freeing the sail; the lines were a mess and he doubted they’d ever been used. He looked back at Genie and shrugged.

‘When we hear a grinding sound? It means we’ve hit land.’

‘Well, at least we can’t sink then, right?’ Renée said.

Genie met Rian’s eyes and they smiled at each other. It was fine. He really had forgiven her. She was sure of it.

Genie’s eyes were drawn towards the shore. ‘Hey, look.’

They looked. Even from here they could see the house was huge, with giant spotlights illuminating it, just so you could see how much money they had. It was – well, un-Canadian. No one needed a house that big, did they?

‘We going to drift there?’ Renée asked, clearly worried. ‘Rich people have guns, Ri. Or attack-dogs. Maybe this ain’t a good idea,’ she added quietly.

‘We land where we land. I guess this is it, guys. I don’t think I can get the sail up in time.’

Nothing happened. The yacht sort of drifted slower and slower. They were out of the current and now it was down to the tide.

‘Hey,’ Genie called from down in the cabin. ‘I found a whole bag of dry clothes under the bunk.’

They were all down there in a second. Mouch watched them trying stuff on from his perch. He couldn’t wait to get back on dry land. Couldn’t wait to be dry, period.

‘It’s like someone was planning a seventies party. I got flares and they’re my size,’ Renée was saying. ‘But what is Reverend Schneider doing with them? Sure as hell he doesn’t wear flares.’

Genie put up her hand to Renée’s mouth. ‘Say nothing. I don’t want to know. I just want dry clothes.’

Rian found the empty brandy miniature they had shared earlier. ‘I could get used to that stuff. Like swallowing a fireball.’

‘It’s disgusting. I can’t believe anyone drinks it. Don’t get used to it, Rian Tulane. One lush in our family is enough.’

Rian had to agree. ‘I need dry jeans.’

‘Here.’ Genie handed him a pair of jeans. ‘Legs are short, but they are
so
you.’

‘God, Mouch, you smell like a dog,’ Renée said, sniffing.

Genie went to poor Mouch, all wrapped up in a towel. ‘Salty dog, aren’t you! Wanted to swim to freedom. Don’t blame you at all, dog.’

She kissed him on his salty head. He licked her back.

One minute later they hit the shoreline and fell head first in a heap. Mouch smacked against the bulkhead and howled. He was definitely never going on water again.

‘So much for Mexico,’ Genie said with a sigh.

‘Come on, we’re on land. Look on the bright side, Genie. No one knows where we are so they can’t find us. Hell, if you still want to go to Mexico we can hitch there.’

They emerged on deck and stared in awe at the grand mansion before them.

‘You remember when we had to read
The Great Gatsby
last year?’ Genie said quietly.

Rian nodded. Renée didn’t, she hadn’t been in school for almost two years now, thanks to the Fortress.

‘It’s like the biggest house I’ve ever seen. How many people live here? A hundred?’

Rian took Genie’s hand. ‘If it’s like Gatsby, then only one.’