Milkshake (16 page)

“Er, not sure, back to Auckland, I think, at least for
tonight anyway, How do you know? What’s Anika been
saying?”

She sat up, dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled tissue. “She
said a war has started, and that by coming here and invading their
own island, the Government has made it clear that it knows what’s
going on and that it isn't prepared to let it go. She thinks the
Americans will make the next move and that’ll probably be to try
and intercept you. Ed is taking you to meet some guys in the South
Island who can protect you and what you are carrying.” She stood,
the vertical movement unleashing another wave of tearful emotion as
she hugged him tightly. “Dave, what’s going on here? Why can’t they
leave us alone to just get on with setting up home and living our
lives? How have we become so heavily involved in all of
this?”

“It’s precisely because we’re just normal Mr and Mrs Average,
the kind of people who can move into and around the country without
attracting any suspicion or attention. So we’ve become part of
their plan. But we’ve realised what is going on, paid attention
when we shouldn’t have, so I just need to be kept out of the
spotlight. The Government want to use me as bait and Cowood wants
their card back.”

Katherine dried her eyes and looked up at her husband. “Anika
has said I can stay here. Of course, I want to come with you but
she says, if I stay here, it’ll throw them of your scent, at least
for the next twenty-four hours. Hopefully they’ll think you’re
still here as well and that will give you time to get away, down
south, somewhere safe, then you can let me know and I can come and
join you.” She trailed off into yet more sobbing, hugging and
tears.

They stood for several minutes holding each other, feeling
each other’s warmth. They had not held each other like this for a
long while.

Ed called up the stairs. “Dave we have to leave NOW!” They
didn’t move. Ed called again, this time softer, more apologetic.
“Sorry, both of you. We have to go, Dave.”

Reluctantly they pulled apart. The room became instantly
cooler. David kissed her again, turned, picked up his bag from by
the door and hurried down stairs, through the deserted café and out
into the dark early evening gloom.

Ed explained high tide was at seven-thirty which left just
enough time to drive as far as they could before tramping the final
kilometre to the isolated bay where a boat waited to take them back
to Auckland.

Chapter 10

Ed turned off the road into open countryside. The 4x4 loped
over the undulating terrain until they reached a wooded area. Ed
slowly weaved amongst the thick tree trunks, their bark and leaves
unfamiliar to David, before stopping and turning off the engine.
“That’s as far as we can go by car. Grab your stuff, Dave. We’re on
foot from here.”

They made their way down the steeply sloping wooded terrain.
In the increasing darkness, exposed tree roots and slippery rocks
made the descent treacherous. David used the thin whippy trees
sprouting from the hillside as handrails - grab and jump, grab and
jump - each time jarring his wrists. First left then right, each
took the full weight of his body as he continued the steep downward
journey.

Ahead, and below, a uniform lightness as if the trees suddenly
ended and there was just a void beyond, nothing he could focus on.
He felt about to tip over the edge of the world. Three more leaps
and they would be horizontal once more, standing upright on a small
sandy beach. Ed managed it. David misjudged the angle and landed
face down in the sand.

He looked up, spitting out the dry crunching, gritty sand. A
small boat bounced around in the breaking waves, its bow facing
towards the shore. Standing in front of it, and holding a rope as
if controlling an unbroken horse, he could just make out in the
darkness Hone’s amused grin.

David hesitated. Shit! The last time he had seen the huge
Maori was in the rear view mirror picking himself up from the dusty
road where he had been left to find his own way back to
civilisation. What was he doing here? Was it a trap? Why had Ed
betrayed him? It must have been some consolation to him that it was
now David lying spread–eagled, about to pick himself up, and shake
the sand from his hair, eyes and ears, with some semblance of
dignity.

Ed was already walking straight into the sea, shoes and jeans
still in place. He shook Hone’s free hand, said something the
breaking waves completely drowned out, then catching the crest from
an incoming wave, pulled himself over the side of the
boat.

David paused, hopping around, trying to casually slip off his
shoes and socks. It was all right for Ed - he could go home and get
a dry pair. Maybe he should keep them on and run back into the
trees? The next problem, standing as he now was on the high water
mark, were the shards of crushed razor sharp sea shells beneath his
bare feet. With shoes in one hand and socks in the other, he made
an undignified zigzag dash towards the smooth wet sand and into the
surf.

Hone laughed. “How’s it goin’, Dave? Bit of a mission getting
this far, eh, Bro’?”

David wasn’t sure if he meant the last four days or the last
four metres. The important thing was the tone had been
friendly.

Trying to judge the incoming surf as he had seen Ed do so
expertly before, he heaved himself aboard on an incoming wave,
deftly avoiding the hard metallic hull that was rising up to meet
his flailing body as he hauled himself over the side, landing face
down on the wet deck.

The rumbling Mercury engine roared and a whoosh of white spume
flew into the air as Hone expertly guided the small craft into
deeper water before turning the bow to the west and out into the
blackness of the Hauraki Gulf.

David negotiated his way to the bench at the stern,
desperately trying not to lose his balance once more as the
aluminium hull rhythmically bounced and thumped through the
waves.

Ed shouted above the combined howl of engine, wind and sea,
“We need to get to the mainland as soon as possible. Our rendezvous
point is on a rocky bit of coastline and it’s hard enough to
negotiate in daylight, let alone pitch black.”

Bumping westwards for over an hour, Hone finally eased back
on the throttle. The small boat was once more at the mercy of the
waves and, within four hundred metres of landfall, barely visible
through the thickening darkness of night that had now enveloped
them.

Hone cut the engine and they drifted the last twenty metres
towards the shore. The rolling motion abruptly stopped as the
metallic hull grazed against the shallow sandy seabed. Each wave
lifted them, supporting the vessel’s weight before dropping it
heavily back on to the sand as the boat was hoisted closer to the
beach.

Ed disappeared over the edge and into the sea, taking the
painter with him. He pulled the boat through the water, looking
back, judging the wave, using its force to haul the boat out of the
sea and onto the sand. Finally it tilted to one side, beached, and
David followed Ed onto the wet sand.

They were in a small bay, enclosed on three sides by steep
wooded cliffs, just like those they had left behind on the island.
Now they had stopped moving, the wind had died down and David could
feel his face glowing despite the cool evening air.

“I need to get the boat sorted,” said Hone. “You two go on.
I’ll catch up.”

Ed began to stride up the beach towards the trees. David ran,
trying to catch up, stopping and starting as he tried to slip on
his footwear. Soft sand gave way to stony soil beneath the trees.
They climbed up through the bush, jumping from one steep foothold
to another. David considered for a moment that they might have
sailed in a circle and were now retracing their steps back up the
slope they had clambered down to get to the beach on the
island.

He had to concentrate hard just to keep Ed’s back in sight. If
he momentarily lost him, he had to listen out for the snapping of a
twig or the scuff of a small stone, signalling his position
somewhere in front.

In the darkness David felt dewy grass against his legs as the
ground levelled out beneath his feet. They had no torch and, as
they made their way across the open ground, he could just make out
a faint light a short distance ahead.

Ed was making his way towards it. David felt somehow obliged
to whisper, “Where are we going, Ed?”

Ed whispered back, his voice muffled by the dark cloak of
nightfall. “See the light over there? Hone left it unlocked. It's
pretty remote out here, so it should be alright. He’ll be up to
join us as soon as he secures the boat.”

David could just make out a metal door
handle just above head height. Ed reached up, opened it and climbed
three small steps before going in. He followed.

A short narrow dimly lit corridor stretched out before them.
As he turned to close the door, David noticed the sign above
it.

EMERGENCY EXIT

He tapped the floor with his foot. It was hollow. Bracing both
feet either side of the narrow corridor barely wider than his
shoulders, he pushed, first left then right. The floor creaked and
gently rocked under the pressure. Ed turned, startled, as the floor
beneath him moved also;

“So this must be some kind of camper van, then?”

Ed smiled and nodded before flicking a switch. Three
fluorescent tubes along the low ceiling hesitated and then flashed
into life, wiping out the cosy glow from the unseen light source at
the other end. “Well, yeah, I suppose basically it’s a bus. But
it’s a bit more than just a bus. I’ll give you the guided tour in
the morning. This is your bunk.” Ed pulled a curtain, revealing a
small bed against a curtained window. Submariners had more room,
David thought.

They continued towards what David had worked out was the front
of the bus and into a small kitchen and sitting area. There was a
full length curtain separating the living area from the driver.
“We’ll have a cuppa before turning in, I think. Hone’s got the
first driving shift. I’ll be up at three to take over, so no late
night for me tonight.”

Hone climbed in through the driver’s door and appeared through
the front curtain. He fell into a row of cushions strewn over the
bench seats that ran down each side of the bus and lay there
silently until Ed brought him his coffee.

He sat up, took the mug and began sipping in earnest silence
as if it was medicine. David still felt uneasy in his presence and
Hone made no attempt to even acknowledge him. David took his cue
and made his way to bed. Moments later, Hone started the engine
and, within minutes, the gentle throb of the engine beneath his
head and the bounce of the chassis sent David into a deep
sleep.

* * *

He woke and pushed aside the thin curtain, revealing the
daylight outside. Through the condensation delta trickling down the
glass, he could make out trees just a short distance away. The
whooshing of vehicles indicated they were parked next to a highway,
busy with early morning traffic. The bus shuddered several times as
large trucks sped close by.

Making his way towards the front, he found Ed hunched over a
small table, moving the mouse pointer around on a laptop computer.
He acknowledged David without looking up. “Morning, Dave. Sleep
ok?” He did not wait for a reply. “Just checking overnight emails.
Apparently MAF had the milk samples from Waiheke analysed
overnight. One of our people just sent through the data before MAF
have had a chance to check the results for themselves. I’ll have a
proper look once we get on the ferry. Hone’s getting some sleep
now. He ended up driving until four this morning, so I’ll give him
a shout once we get to Wellington.”

David was not sure why he was so surprised about the
destination. After all, they had been driving for nearly nine
hours; presumably not round in circles, so they must have covered a
fair distance. “We need to catch the midday ferry to the South
Island and then meet up with the rest of the guys. By the way, can
I borrow the card? I need to make a ferry booking.”

It had been a while since he had thought about the card.
Everything that had happened to him in the past few days was a
direct result of the innocuous sliver of plastic he now carried. He
casually handed it to Ed who keyed in the card number and expiry
date, and handed it back, without comment.

“Doesn’t it bother you, using that money?”

“Not really. As soon as I hit ENTER, I know it's been logged
that you’ve made a ferry booking. But this booking is for two days'
time and we’ll be long gone by then. No, what really bothers me is
the fact that I could have bought the whole bloody ferry company
with the money on that card. Luckily they don’t offer that option
on the website.”

Ed drove the bus the rest of the way into Wellington. Hone
slept soundly until ten. The trio sat at the front of the bus as it
entered the ferry terminal. Ed parked the bus in behind a line of
commercial tour buses. “Grab your bag, Dave,” he said as he climbed
down from the driver’s seat, ‘and follow me.”

He rushed back to his cabin, picked up his unopened bag and
made his way out the back door, running to catch up with
Ed.