Lost In Kakadu (26 page)

“I’ll be okay.”

He turned to her with gritted teeth. “Stand back. I don’t want you anywhere near the smoke.”

She opened her mouth, poised to say something, then changed her mind and stepped back. The flames ignited readily and a thick plume of pungent, grey smoke swirled heavily into the air. Mackenzie kept one eye on Abi as he continued to feed the fire and it wasn’t long before an enormous inferno raged. He placed several large logs on top, confident it was now hot enough to burn them.

As the night rolled in, his mind drifted from past to present and he was unable to shrug off his discomfort. Abi must’ve sensed his uneasiness and stayed well clear of the smoke. It was only when there was nothing left but the burning logs and the breeze had carried the familiar smell away that he began to relax. He sat beside Abi and draped his arm across her shoulder.

“That wasn’t so bad,” she said.

He huffed. “No, it was okay.” He pulled her to him. “But from now on, we keep a stack of wood under cover.”

“Might as well use this up first.” Her grin was cheeky. “No point only burning half of it.”

He thought about this for a moment. “Okay.” He sighed. “Like you said, nobody’s coming for it … or us.”

Mackenzie stared up into a gum tree of Jurassic proportions. Its dizzying height nearly tipped him off balance. It took a couple of days of serious searching to choose this tree from the hundreds around them. Its sheer size and evenly spaced branches made it perfect for climbing.

Abi placed her hand on his shoulder. “Be careful.”

He cupped her cheek and when she pressed against his palm and closed her eyes he bent down and kissed her. She always tasted so lovely. When he pulled back he noted her frowning.

“I’ll be okay, Abi.”

She chewed on her bottom lip and nodded.

Mackenzie gave her another brief kiss before he reached toward the first branch and hauled himself up. He clambered up the tree like an expert, gripping with his toes and following a line of tiny black ants on a mission skyward. A grey plant that hung from a branch like an old man’s beard caught his eye and touching it, he noted it would make ideal kindling.

The view from the tree opened up with each step, urging him higher. As he neared the top, the sun reached into the canopy and smothered him with its intensity. But the branches gradually became smaller and when he couldn’t climb any more he straddled a branch, wiped his sweat-soaked hair from his eyes and massaged his aching wrists. An accumulation of powdered bird droppings was piled up on a nearby branch and looking up, he spied a tiny bird’s nest. Small pin pricks of light piercing through the nest’s tightly woven twigs indicated it was empty.

The sun was a ferocious heat directly above him and cotton wool clouds danced across the sky. Beyond the tree, the carpet of green spread out before him like a never-ending sea. A quick scan of the horizon revealed nothing of interest, just acres and acres of rugged bush. His heart sank.
There has to be something.
He began searching again, this time forcing his eyes to take in everything. Then, as if by magic, a sliver of orange appeared to his right. Bracing himself, he rose up, shielded his eyes from the sun and stared across the treetops.

A cliff cut through the landscape like an enormous sash and the rocky escarpment fell from a flat tabletop as if it’d been sliced away by a giant broadsword. Mackenzie punched the air. “Yes!”

The cliff was the highest point around making it the most obvious place to plan their way out of the jungle, but it looked a fair distance away.
It’ll probably take days to get there.
He tugged the compass from his pocket, noted the direction of the cliff then readied to climb down. As he descended, his mind was already running through what they’d need to pack for their trip. They had some serious decision making ahead of them.

Half way down the tree, Abi’s voice rose up from the ground. “Did you see anything?”

“Yes, hang on and I’ll tell you when I’m down.” The climb down was as hard as the climb up and he was exhausted by the time he placed his feet back on the ground.

He took a moment to regain his breath before they began walking back to the crash site.

Back at the plane, he knelt beside Rodney’s grave, placed his hand on the headstone and allowed its warmth to seep into his fingers. Pangs of guilt gripped him. Guilt at surviving the crash. Guilt over the completely inadequate grave site. Guilt over his feelings for Abi so soon after Rodney’s death. But was it too soon? How long was long enough? His chest tightened as he remembered the discussion that literally saved his life. Rodney had been adamant it was his turn for the window seat.
If he hadn’t been so certain it would’ve been me lying three feet below.

Mackenzie wrestled his mind away from the thoughts. God knows how many times since the crash he’d gone over the same debate. Nothing could change what happened, but one thing he did know, was that even after everything that happened Rodney would be happy for him. Rodney would’ve wanted him to live, to move on and to love again. He was certain of that. Leaning over, he kissed the stone. “I promise I’ll come back for you.”

He turned to Charlie’s headstone just a metre away and remembered how tormented he’d been digging his grave. Mackenzie had honestly believed they’d saved him, and he couldn’t shake a nagging feeling that he’d contributed to his death. The old man had become a solid companion in such a short amount of time and Mackenzie felt his loss as hard as if Charlie had been an old friend.

“Goodbye, old man.” He tugged a loose vine from the stone. “Hey, I bet we find your secret berry. And when we do, I’ll make sure it’s named after you.”

* * *

Packing to vacate the camp for the last time, Abi felt like they were leaving a slowly sinking ship. They were torn between what they could carry, what was necessary and what they refused to leave behind. They filled two backpacks and one trolley suitcase with their belongings and made compromises, dictated by size and weight, where necessary. Mackenzie made one final trip to the lagoon and filled up their water bottles, the rum bottle and all the shampoo containers. The weight of the water was a necessary burden.

The night before they left their campsite Abi was a restless soul, torn between hope and trepidation. She curled up by the fire with a notepad and pen but struggled to find the right words.
How do you write down your feelings knowing it could be your final message to the world?
The words were like cancerous cells reluctant to leave her, and she felt Mackenzie’s concerned eyes as he too, sat with poised pen on the other side of the fire. Nothing she could say to her reclusive mother seemed important and Spencer’s mother was like a distant island she saw but never touched.

Finally she wrote her first note to her daughter.

Dear Krystal,

I know at times we didn’t see eye to eye and I regret with all my heart that I let you go. If we never have the chance to embrace again then I want you to know that I will still be there. I will watch over you as you grow into a strong and beautiful woman. My eyes will shed a tear on your wedding day as you hold your breath and walk toward the man of your dreams. I will be there when you cradle your beautiful babies for the first time and, like I did with you, I will watch them grow with a song in my heart.

I love you, Krystal. I always loved you and I always will.

Your mum,

Abi.

She decided to make her final letter a testament to herself, a letter that she promised she’d come back to. In harsh detail she recorded her previous faults and selfish flaws, citing several examples of her despicable behaviour. Then elaborating on who she’d become, she highlighted her determination to remain true to herself, to trust her own feelings and emotions.

Then she signed off proudly, as Abi Mulholland, widow, mother, lover.

Abi folded her letters into quarters and handed them to Mackenzie. The touch of his hand was all she needed to know they were doing the right thing. He secured her letters with his note in the cockpit away from exposure to the elements.

That night as they settled for sleep, Mackenzie welcomed her into his bed. She slept with her body contoured against his, two people united as one. Her sleep was fulfilling and empty of dreams and she woke with the comfortable notion that if this had been her last night on earth then she was happy with the ending.

The following morning Abi helped Mackenzie load the heavy backpack onto his shoulders and then strapped on her much lighter pack. With her grip firm on the travelling suitcase, they left the place they’d called home for eight months while the morning sun’s rays still glistened off the wet leaves. Abi found herself glancing over her shoulder frequently, panic twisting her stomach as the plane wreck gradually disappeared behind the thick vegetation.

Navigating a path through the virgin bush was like carving through steel wool. Hour after hour they traipsed over the uneven forest floor, cutting through the stubborn plants and battling stifling humidity. Abi was slowing down but she couldn’t help it. Finally soaked with sweat and panting with exhaustion, she couldn’t go any further. “Mack, can we stop for a minute?”

The look of relief on his face showed he’d been waiting for her to call the stops and she made a mental note to listen to her body sooner. Mackenzie melted to the forest floor, laying flat, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath and she followed his lead. The ground was like a soggy piece of toast, warm and soft. The trees overhead spun in slow, delirious circles, but the spinning continued even after she closed her eyes.

“Here,” Mackenzie said, his voice above her.

She opened her eyes. A bottle of water dangled in front of her face.

“Go steady,” he cautioned. “We don’t know where our next supply will come from.”

After just one refreshing mouthful, she secured the lid on the bottle and handed it back to him. Her shoulders ached and she rolled her head from side to side attempting to loosen them up. A strange line running down a wattle tree at her side caught her eye and she leant in for a closer look.

Hundreds of hairy caterpillars had formed a giant conga line down the trunk of the tree. It continued several metres into the bush.

“Hey, have a look at these caterpillars.” Abi recalled seeing this type of caterpillar once in her childhood. They’d formed a similar line across the yard. When she took one of the creatures out of the trail, the remaining ones simply hooked up again and kept going as if nothing had happened.

Mackenzie crawled to her. His weathered appearance, flushed cheeks and cracked lips showed his sheer exhaustion. “I wonder where they’re going.”

She wiped the sweat from her eyes. “I bet they have a better plan than we do.”

He reached out to touch one of them.

“Don’t touch it. They could be poisonous.”

He huffed then laid back spreadeagled on the dirt beside her.

Abigail wondered if their plan was foolish. With no idea what lay ahead or where their next meal would come from, she was placing complete trust in Mackenzie and his now expert ability to find food. He’d become a master with the slingshot and stumbled upon edible plants detailed in Charlie’s notes with uncanny regularity.

Her heart told her to return to the safety of the plane. Her head told her this plan was their only hope of survival. And her emotions were a jumbled mess trying to figure it all out.

* * *

All day they travelled along the imaginary line dictated by the compass needle. The silence and shadows of the jungle gave Abi an unsettled feeling. She found herself bracing for whatever they might walk up on. Finally, the light took on the sepia tone that told her the sun would soon disappear behind the trees. They needed to find a place to set up camp so they could start the fire.

Mackenzie chose a small nook beside a rock wall. It was barely big enough to fit both of them but it had a slight overhang that offered some protection. Abi dropped her heavy pack and rubbed the stiffness from her throbbing shoulder muscles. All she wanted was rest, but they still had a lot to do before darkness fell. As she laid out some of their things, she tried not to think of the number of spiders that could be living amongst the dark recesses of the craggy rock wall.

Mackenzie grabbed his hunting gear and headed off in search of food.

“Be careful,” she called after him.

The surrounding vegetation was so dense it was impossible to see beyond five metres and as Abi scoured the area for fire wood she was careful to make note of her direction. Heading the wrong way could have her lost forever. Light filtered in through the canopy creating a mottled pattern of light and dark and with each step the shadows shifted and changed. The air was completely still, as if it was impossible for any breeze to penetrate the tangled foliage. Every so often an animal would make a noise. Some she recognised, some she didn’t.

Not too far from the alcove she found a small dead tree that had long ago fallen over. Its exposed roots were brittle and dry and all the dirt that would have once covered them had long ago been washed away. The tree was dried out enough to make it perfect fire wood and she snapped off all the branches leaving just the bare trunk. She scanned beneath it for snake holes and was surprised to see a snail on the underside of the log. It was as large as a golf ball and she was careful not to break the shell as she tugged against its suction on the smooth bark. Once removed, the creature disappeared into its shell and as she dropped it into the pocket of her cargo pants that once belonged to Toni, she wished she too had a safe little home to crawl into. With six more snails of varying sizes in her pockets she straddled the log and braced to lift it.

It wasn’t until she’d finished dragging the log to the rock wall, along with all the branches she’d snapped off, that Mackenzie returned with a medium sized freckled monitor dangling from his spear. The green spotted lizard was barely enough for a snack and Mackenzie’s clenched jaw showed his disappointment at the meagre catch.