Authors: Kendall Talbot
“But how are we going to move him?”
“I’ll have to carry him, but I’ll need your help.”
He crawled back into the wreck and told Charlie their plan. “Are you ready?”
Charlie nodded.
Mackenzie slipped one hand beneath Charlie’s legs and one behind his back and pulled the frail body to his chest, surprised at just how light the old man was. In one motion, he lifted him off the ground and Charlie let out a shrill cry of agony. Mackenzie didn’t stop. He ducked beneath the jagged edges of the opening and out into the jungle.
“Here we go, Charlie. We can do this.”
Tears streamed down Charlie’s face and for a brief moment, Mackenzie thought he’d passed out. But Charlie opened his wrinkled eyelids and stared at him, hardly blinking. The old man’s skin had become even paler than when he first saw him and dozens of spider veins were clearly visible on his cheeks.
“You’re going to be okay.” Mackenzie repeated the mantra every couple of steps along the arduous trek back to the campsite. His breathing was laboured and his heart pounded in his ears, but he didn’t complain. As Abigail held back branches and helped navigate mossy logs, Mackenzie couldn’t help but wonder what they were going to do with Charlie once they got him back to the cabin.
A brilliant pink sky welcomed them back to the clearing and a warm breeze blew dried leaves along the ground ahead of them. Mackenzie’s legs burnt as he searched for the ideal place to put Charlie. It would be impossible to get him into the plane and he’d be too exposed near the fire. Charlie needed to be protected from the elements and the only obvious place was beneath the plane. “Abigail, empty my suitcase out under the plane. We’ll put him there.”
Abigail raced to the luggage, selected a large brown case and dragged it over.
“That’s not mine.”
Sadness briefly crossed her eyes. “I know, but Spencer won’t need his clothes anymore.” She unzipped the case and tipped out the clothes to create a rugged bed.
Charlie’s eyes remained closed as Mackenzie lowered him onto the clothing and despite his shallow breathing and pale skin, he looked peaceful. Mackenzie resisted the urge to re-examine the wound, stressing over the fact he could do nothing with the injury anyway.
With Charlie settled, Mackenzie occupied himself getting a meal prepared before the sun disappeared. Unwelcome questions raged through his mind. He focused on moulding the ingredients into smooth dough, his own form of meditation. When the dough was ready, he folded it over a handful of beans then pinched the sides to seal it and placed it onto the hotplate.
Charlie groaned and he watched Abigail kneel next to him.
“It’s okay, Charlie. You’re safe now.” Abigail moistened a cloth to wipe across his forehead. “Are you hungry?” she said.
Charlie nodded his response. “Smells good.”
“I think it’s ready.” Mackenzie carried the tin over from the fire.
He sliced the calzone into three equal portions and beans oozed out, sizzling on the hot metal. Mackenzie took a bite and the crust cracked as the soft bread mingled with the warm beans.
Charlie only ate a few small mouthfuls before he succumbed to sleep and Abigail covered him with one of Spencer’s shirts before they crept away.
The air cooled sharply as night descended and Mackenzie realised he needed to find a way to keep Charlie warm and free from moisture overnight. Mackenzie had no intention of putting him in the plane with the bodies. The smell from the cabin, when it occasionally wafted in their direction, was horrific enough, but getting him up there would be nearly impossible. After a while he had an idea. He hooked the cargo net onto the wreck to create two sides and wove bushy branches into the holes until it was a blanket of dark green foliage. The resulting two-sided bedroom was the best he could do.
“You’re very clever,” Abigail said from behind him.
“Thanks. I think I’ll sleep here too, just in case he needs me.”
Abigail hugged herself and chewed on her bottom lip and Mackenzie realised she was looking for an invite. “Now, let’s make our beds,” he said.
For a brief second her eyes lit up. “Thank you.”
They each dragged over another suitcase and spread out the clothes to make a bed. Mackenzie was overwhelmed with sadness at the sight of Rodney’s favourite denim jacket. Knowing he would never see it on him again broke his heart. As he folded it up, he could still smell Rodney’s aftershave. It was the same scent he’d been using for over a decade. Mackenzie decided to use the jacket as his pillow.
* * *
A shrill bird call interrupted Mackenzie’s sleep. He opened his eyes to see a crow clinging to the shredded edge of the cabin wall above him. The bird’s sleek, black feathers glistened in the morning sun and its menacing red eyes stared at the outline of Rodney’s lifeless body beneath the T-shirt Mackenzie had draped over him. Mackenzie snapped his hand and the bird squawked and flew to a nearby eucalyptus tree.
Suddenly he remembered Charlie. He looked over at the old man’s slight frame. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at him, looking for signs he was still alive. It seemed like ages before Charlie’s chest finally moved, ever so slightly up and down with a shallow breath. He sighed with relief.
Mackenzie rolled onto his side and as he stared into the dead fire he thought about their plans for today. He’d never really believed this moment would come, but with no sign of a rescue, they couldn’t put off burying the bodies any longer. The burden of having to bury the man he loved weighed heavy. His eyes burnt and tears spilled down his cheeks. They fell as dark spots on Rodney’s jacket.
The jacket had once been the centre of one of their biggest fights. Rodney had worn it, rather than a more appropriate suit, as his choice of outfit at Mackenzie’s most important night as a chef. The grand opening of his stylish new restaurant had been the culmination of years of work, but it had been marred by Rodney’s choice of wardrobe.
Mackenzie inhaled a deep breath and smelt Rodney’s aftershave on the denim. He smiled to himself as he remembered Rodney arguing with him over the jacket but, of course, it had become his favourite piece of wardrobe. Mackenzie eventually grew to love seeing him wear it. He looked carefree in it, a pleasant contrast to the stiff collared suit he wore daily as a lawyer. With a burning heart, he decided he would see Rodney in it one last time after all. He’d bury Rodney in this jacket.
A crow cawed, loud and obnoxious, from the tree line, bringing him back to the moment. He watched Abigail stretch awake, sit up, and then glance at Charlie. Their eyes met and she mouthed ‘good morning’. She untangled herself from the bedding and crawled out into the morning sun before getting to her feet.
Mackenzie strolled toward her. “How’d you sleep?”
“Terribly. How’s Charlie?” she asked.
“I think he slept okay. I heard him snoring once or twice.” He kicked at a log in the fire pit and it crumbled onto the cold ash. “Let’s get this going so we can make breakfast.”
* * *
Mackenzie surveyed the surrounding area while he ate breakfast and realised they were fortunate to have crashed in this clearing. The grassy area was about the size of a squash court, but beyond that loomed dense, virgin bush with thick vines hanging like giant spaghetti twisted into tangled tapestries. Masses of grey beards hung below moss-coated branches and slivers of sunlight punched through the canopy labyrinth creating a mottled pattern on the rotting leaves of the forest floor.
Mackenzie kicked the ground with the heel of his shoe releasing a chunk of dark brown earth like it was a slice of rubber.
Digging a grave is going to be hard work
.
Abigail walked up next to him, a ribbon of hair clinging to her freshly applied lipstick. “Are we burying them today?”
She must’ve read his mind. Wet eyelashes rimmed her red eyes and he felt her pain. “I think we have to.”
A loud cry caught them both off guard and Mackenzie ran to Charlie who lay flat on his back with his hands on his chest, his eyes wide open.
Mackenzie knelt beside him and gently touched Charlie’s forehead. “Hey, mate. How’re you feeling?”
“Could be better.” Charlie’s voice was barely audible.
“Well, you’re here with us now. We have plenty of food and water and we should be rescued today. So hang in there.”
Charlie reached out with a shaky hand and clutched Mackenzie’s wrist. The old man’s crippled fingers dug deep, surprising Mackenzie with his strength. “Did you bring my satchel?”
Mackenzie tried to picture which case he was talking about. “Do you mean your suitcase?”
“No. My shoulder satchel. It’s tanned leather with a metal clasp at the front. I had it in the plane.” Fear showed in his pale blue eyes.
“Um, I didn’t see it.”
“You must find it. I need it.” Charlie’s fingers trembled as he pleaded.
“Okay. Calm down, buddy. I’ll get it after you’ve eaten.”
“No. Now!” Charlie released his grip. “Please?”
Mackenzie feared Charlie was about to cry. “Okay, I’ll go right now.”
What’s so important about that satchel?
He patted Charlie’s bony shoulder and turned to Abigail. “You stay with him. I’ll get the satchel and come straight back.”
She touched his forearm. “Be careful.”
Mackenzie dashed along the same path they’d travelled the day before, noting the temperature was even hotter than the previous couple of days. He wiped sweat from his temple. High in a tree, he caught sight of two yellow birds with long, black beaks trotting along a mossy branch. He paused to watch them for a few seconds.
He cocked his head at the strange noise, a distant
thump, thump, thump
. His heart exploded in his chest as he turned and ran. “A helicopter!” It sounded like a big chopper too. The thump was heavy and slow. He imagined a large army helicopter with two propellers travelling slowly overhead. “Here we are!”
Thump, thump, thump
. It was getting louder. “Here. We’re down here!” He ran, waving his arms in the air like crazy and ignoring the branches whipping his skin.
He dove into the clearing. “A helicopter. We’re saved.”
Abigail was at Charlie’s side and snapped toward him. “Where?”
“I heard it. Help me make the fire bigger.”
Mackenzie tossed anything he could get his hand on into the fire. Rodney’s suitcase, clothes, wood, scraps of rubbish. “We’re saved, Charlie.”
He grinned at Abigail and for the first time since he’d met her, her smile lit up her face. “I told you they wouldn’t give up,” she said.
“You were right.” Caught up in the moment, he hugged her to his chest, but released her quickly when he realised what he’d done. “Keep throwing things on the fire.”
The fire grew quickly and thick black smoke floated in great clouds up to the sky. Mackenzie stepped back to watch it and was certain it was escaping the tree canopy. He couldn’t hear the chopper anymore, but wasn’t fazed. The smoke would get their attention.
He glanced at Abi. She was at the luggage with her makeup case open in her hand.
“What’re you doing?”
“Getting ready. I can’t look like this when I’m rescued.”
Mackenzie shook his head. He couldn’t imagine being so uncomfortable in your own skin that you had to hide behind makeup.
He crawled in beside Charlie. “We’re saved, buddy.”
“They took their time.”
“Won’t be long now, though. They’re probably working out where to land.” He touched Charlie’s shoulder. “We’ll have you in a hospital in no time.”
The fire was a blazing inferno now with flames leaping into the air and thick smoke rolling skyward. He moved to the clearing to watch it rise. “They must see it.”
Abigail walked toward him. She was in high heels now. Her hair and makeup perfect. She’d even changed into fresh clothes. “Where are they?” She grinned with carefree excitement, obviously not feeling any of the apprehension Mackenzie was.
“Looking for a place to land, I guess. Let’s pack up our gear.” But as he shoved things back into suitcases a gnawing dread built within him. The rescuers were taking too long and they hadn’t given any indication that they’d even seen them.
Wouldn’t that be the first thing they’d do?
Rodney’s suitcase was nothing but a skeleton now and as the things beneath it burnt away and crumbled to ash, it settled further down. Mackenzie looked over at Rodney. He wanted to believe he was finally taking him home, but now he wasn’t so sure.
“What’s happening?” Abigail looked ridiculous as she sat on her suitcase with her high heels on, and her handbag clutched under her arm. To her right were the charred remains of the fire, to her left was the crumpled wreck, behind her was dense virgin bush, but Abigail was oblivious to it all and looked perfectly ready to step into a limo.
It had been over an hour without any sign and Mackenzie was convinced the rescuers hadn’t seen them. “We were too late,” he said.
“Who was too late?”
“We were. With the fire. The smoke. They didn’t see it.”
“What?”
“They didn’t see us. They’d be back by now.”
She got to her feet. “Are you serious?” Fear crept into her expression.
“They would’ve let us know we were seen. Hovered above, dropped something down to us. They wouldn’t just leave without a sign.”
“Oh God.” She fell back onto her suitcase, but stared up at him wide eyed. “They missed us?”
Mackenzie had no idea what to say and his mind turned over all the likely possibilities. Maybe they were low on petrol and left to refuel? Were they getting help? Maybe they landed a long distance away and were now walking back to them. But the most obvious explanation was they hadn’t seen them.
“Jesus Christ!” he screamed at the sky.
“What are we going to do?”
“Nothing we can do. They can’t see us. We can’t contact them. It’s bullshit.”
“They might come back.”
“That might’ve been our one and only chance.”
Mackenzie sat by the fire and watched as the last of Rodney’s suitcase crumbled to ash and vanished. Was that what was going to happen to them? Were they destined to disappear without a trace? They all remained silent for a very long time.