Milkshake (19 page)

It would take too long to explain. David took four paces back,
ran, then leapt for the top of the fence and pulled himself over.
Now he could look Ed in the face, the wire no longer between them.
“Wait here.” David took a gulp of clean air and walked into the
storeroom.

In the confined space, the strong chemical
vapour made his eyes sting. He tried holding his breath. Making his
way to the door at the far end, he unclipped the fire hose nozzle
from its bracket and ran back outside. Still holding it, he
measured out enough hose to go up and over the fence and down the
other side. Then, taking the handle of the container, he ran the
hose under it, and looped the nozzle back, tying the handle to the
hose, with about eight metres of spare hose between the nozzle and
the bucket. There was enough slack in the hose and enough weight in
the nozzle to allow him to give it a few lasso-style swings before
launching it over the fence.

Tom understood David’s intention, quickly grabbed the nozzle
and began pulling. The drum tipped and scraped along the ground
before rising into the air, banging against the fence as it made
its way up. It reached the top of the fence but the combination of
shape and weight meant it could not be levered over onto the other
side.

By now Ed had sensed victory and had recovered. “We need to
get up there, Dave, and help her over.” They were both straight up
the fence on either side of the drum. With their waists balancing
over the top for support, they each reached out a hand and pushed
it over. Once it had cleared the top, gravity took over and it
fell, intact, onto the concrete below.

Ed and David followed, pulling themselves over the fence and
landing simultaneously on the other side.

By the time they had regained their composure, Tom and Billy
had already untangled the heavy container from the fire hose. Billy
lifted it, ignoring the handle and instead clasping his arms around
it, holding it close to his massive chest. He was already gasping
and puffing his way across the service road and back towards the
gap in the fence.

There was a thud behind them and they turned to see the
doorway at the back of the storeroom consumed by thick white smoke
that billowed through the small room and out into the open air
beyond. An invisible, but deadly, combination of gases that had
already mixed and been trapped in the main part of the building now
spread freely, wafting past their nostrils. Each took an
involuntary breath as if their bodies needed confirmation of the
imminent danger they were all in.

Ed responded. “Ok, guys, now would be a good time to run. Once
the flames reach those chemical containers, they’ll be going off
like bloody fireworks and I, for one, don’t fancy having ten kilos
drums of dairy by-products whizzing past my head.”

They broke into a steady but determined trot, soon catching up
with Billy as he struggled to get himself and the container under
the fence. As they started back across the paddock, Billy quickly
lagged behind, struggling with the weight of the drum and his own
lack of fitness. He tried holding it by the handle, first in his
left hand, then in his right, but the weight and consequent
pendulum action as he tried to move faster made it catch against
his legs, slowing him even further.

Ed ran back to assist. Tom and David stopped to watch. Ed took
the container from Billy and lifted it. He called out into the
dusk. “You two, wait there. If we each carry it fifty paces or so,
we’ll gain ground faster and no one’s gonna get left behind or have
a heart attack.”

They began their one-team relay across the gloomy paddock,
taking it in turns to carry the ten kilo drum. Small unseen mounds
of earth and tussocks of grass that littered the field, now almost
invisible in the darkness, made the short journey even more
treacherous.

It was Ed who stumbled first, catching his foot on a hard
clump of reedy grass and spread-eagling onto the dewy ground. David
took the drum as Tom helped Ed back to his feet. He took a few
cautious steps, ensuring nothing had been broken, before breaking
into a brisk stride and taking the lead towards the far side of the
field. By the time they finally reached the truck, all were panting
heavily, their combined warm breath clearly visible as a wispy
evaporating plume above their heads.

“Right, let’s get this in the back of the Hilux and get out
of here.” Ed heaved the container onto the open tailgate, slid it
along the bed of the truck and into the metal box behind the cab.
As he made his way around to the driver’s door, he pointed past the
bonnet to the glowing eastern sky. “She’s well alight
now.”

In the distance they heard the shrill electronic sound of a
siren. Ed pressed the button on the side of his watch to illuminate
the face. “We might just make the ten-thirty news.”

Two months later the official report would explain
….

The fire started as a result of an electrical fault in the
staff canteen located at the front of the factory complex, adjacent
to the reception and administration areas. It spread quickly
through the offices, fuelled by paper and furniture, and then
through the roof space to the despatch area which contained
packaging material. The intense heat broke through the cladding in
the main production area where it further ignited a number of
volatile substances used in the cheese making process. The fire
blazed through the building before reaching the rear where it
completely destroyed the chemical storage compound.

The whole place was beyond saving within twelve
minutes.

Ed swung the truck around, back-tracked to the road, turned
left and headed into the darkness.

After about thirty minutes, Tom gave a silent left hand
gesture to Ed who turned onto a narrow dirt track. The vehicle
bumped and twisted until it arrived outside a small unlit cottage.
They got out into the cold night air. Tom made his way towards the
cottage, fumbling as he went for the correct key amongst the many
that jangled in his hand.

Chapter 12

Silence, except for the gentle tick of the rapidly cooling
engine.

David could hear insects. All around crickets chirruped,
making a sound he remembered from watching old cowboy movies as a
small child. It was not a sound he had ever heard in rural England
and it was unexpected in the remote midwinter New Zealand
bush.

He looked up, trying to get his bearings, to make out an
horizon in the ink–black sky. A faint line could be the trees a
little way off or mountains in the far distance. The one
spectacular sight he could not fail to miss, from just above the
trees to vertically straight up, were the thousands of stars. Even
along the horizon, there were hundreds of them, glistening
brightly.

Back in the UK, even out in the countryside, looking towards
any horizon at night, there would always be a faint glow, some
human habitation not too far away. Man-made light pollution made it
impossible to see all but the brightest stars in the sky. But here,
at the other end of the earth, looking up on a moonless night into
the pristine southern hemisphere sky was like being in deepest
space.

He gazed upward as his eyes became accustomed to the darkness.
It was not dark at all. This immense expanse of sky, from one
horizon to the other, was filled with a mass of twinkling suns. A
faint wisp of cloud floated across. As he looked away, his
peripheral vision focused and he realised the wisp was actually the
Milky Way. For a moment he felt as if gravity itself had
disappeared and that he was standing on a precipice, about to fall
into the void that was so clearly defined all around him. His could
see now how ancient sailors had believed the earth to be flat. The
idea of falling off the edge suddenly felt very real to him. He
rotated on the spot, transfixed by the beauty and sheer number of
stars surrounding him.

Two square lights suddenly appeared in front of him. Tom had
found the right key, allowing him inside to flick the switch which
had jolted David back to reality. “Come on in, Dave, you’ll catch
your death.”

There was a small room, a sofa at one end, a small kitchen
area near the front under the window and two doors in the back
wall. In the centre of the room a small table stood surrounded by
four chairs. The whole room was no bigger than a single garage.
Bill was already on his knees, blowing gently into a wood–burning
stove. Tom stood at the sink filling an old kettle. “Put the telly
on, Eddie. See if we’re on.” The picture was black and white,
grainy, but the words were clear enough.

And in breaking news we are getting reports of a large fire
at the Dairytree Cheese factory just south of Picton. Fire crews
are at the scene. There are no reports of any injuries although
there are concerns about toxic chemicals being ignited and the
situation is being monitored in case the nearby settlement of
Remerana has to be evacuated. A spokesman for Dairytree has said it
is too early to speculate on the cause of the fire.

Ed smiled and sipped his black coffee. “That’ll put them back
about six months, I reckon, and stir up the local council when they
realise the amount of dangerous chemicals being stored at the
site.”

They sat silently contemplating their hot drinks. Something
was niggling David. Ever since they had left Waiheke, everything
had gone too smoothly. From the moment they had left the Mushroom
Café, Ed had assumed control. He knew what was happening next
without any apparent reference to anything or anyone. He knew his
way around the cheese factory site and where the casein was stored,
and how did he know the card would unlock the storeroom? Billy and
Tom had barely spoken to him except to follow his orders, and yet
Ed obviously knew them. All these questions were about to come
tumbling out when there was a scrunch of gravel. “That’ll be
Hone.”

Slam, scrunch, scrunch, scrunch indicated Hone’s impending
entrance. Billy and Tom stood to greet him; a warm handshake
followed by the hongi, the traditional Maori greeting – the gentle
pressing of nose and forehead against that of the other person.
David watched, fascinated by this intimate but very natural
exchange.

The three began talking animatedly in their native tongue.
David looked on, unable to understand words, yet completely
grasping the tone and warmth of the conversation. Their mood turned
solemn for a moment and he thought he caught a name. Perhaps the
man who had died in London? Hone looked over to where he was
sitting. “How’s it going, Dave. What’s it feel like to be an
eco-warrior, man?”

Ed interrupted him. “Where’s the bus, man? I didn’t hear
it.”

“Bloody thing wouldn’t start once the ferry
landed. Had to get it pushed onto the dockside, then get a bloody
taxi all the way here. Cost a bloody fortune!” He turned back to
his friends and all three made their way to the front door. “Just
going for a smoko. We’ll leave you fellas in peace eh?”

There was a brief commotion as they decided who had cigarettes
and who had matches, then, with a slam of the door, there was
silence once more - an uneasy silence.

David was sure Ed sensed he was about to ask him something. He
shifted in his chair, suddenly very interested in the pile of old
junk mail that one of the brothers had picked up from the mailbox
on the way in.

David jumped straight in. “So, Ed, now we have a big drum of
this casein stuff, what’s the plan?”

Ed stood up and began pacing in his now familiar fashion.
“Tomorrow morning we head into Nelson, about two hours drive away.
We need to find the EPANZ leader, Patrick O’Sullivan, who’s in town
for a conference. O’Sullivan is the poster boy for the so–called
Green movement in this country but his political ambition has
blinded him to the corruption and manipulation that’s happening
through the financial and ideological pressure that Cowood’s
putting on him and his fellow party members. It’s time for
O’Sullivan to be removed from the scene before he gets too close to
the throne, so to speak.”

“Removed? Meaning what? Kidnapped?”

Ed stared back at David.

“What, you mean killed? Murdered?”

Ed continued. “O’Sullivan is just a puppet. If he ever becomes
Prime Minister, or even gets close enough to whoever does, he will
do irreparable damage to this country. The only way to stop him is
to eliminate him completely.”

David stared at Ed in disbelief, shocked into silence.
Outside, three men were laughing and coughing their lungs up;
inside a man who had devoted his adult life to saving sick animals
had just calmly stated his intention to kill someone, coolly talked
about murder and, what was worse, apparently trusted David with
this revelation as if it was completely normal and acceptable.
David gestured towards the door. “Do they know about
this?”

“Sure they do, them and a handful of others, mainly
politicians or people in, or loyal to, the Government. We need
people with influence, people with access and people who love their
country.” Ed smiled apologetically, “Sorry, that last bit sounded a
bit too American. Ironic, really, as it’s the yanks who are the
cause of all this.”

David’s mind raced. Exhaustion was beginning to overwhelm him.
But before getting a restful few hours sleep, he needed to hear
more. “So stop me if I miss anything here, Ed, because I’m having a
bit of trouble dealing with all this at eleven o’clock at night. In
a nutshell, America intends to take over New Zealand by this
economic invasion process, buy up all the land and turn milk and
trees into bio-fuel. They can do all this because they persuade the
tree huggers that it’s a clean and environmentally good way to
produce safe fuel, oh, and by the way, here’s a few million dollars
for the cause.”