The Hunting (4 page)

Genie relaxed. Rian felt her hands go limp and she was back with them again. He sat up. Mouch was shaking with fear.

‘It’s OK, Mouch. They’ve gone. We’re fine now.’

Renée gave Genie a hug. ‘I don’t know what you did or what you saw, sweetie, but you saved our asses for sure.’

Genie sat up – a strange feeling of belonging had come over her. She was sure Grandma Munby had been sitting in the raft with them.

‘My grandma came,’ Genie told them. ‘Others too. They’ll help us get down the river.’

‘Like ghosts?’ Renée asked.

‘Like spirits,’ Genie answered mysteriously. ‘Like ancestors.’

Rian pushed off again and began paddling. He didn’t care who had come; whoever or whatever, they had saved them and that was fine by him. They could come anytime they wanted as long as they wanted to help.

‘How far is Bear Island?’ Renée wanted to know.

‘We can be there by dawn,’ Genie said confidently.

They moved on, all of them scanning the skies, scared the choppers would return.

The first hint of dawn appeared some hours later. They were all exhausted. No one had slept. Rian’s arms felt like lead from paddling but Renée and Genie had swapped over at least twice. All of them were desperate for sleep by now. Mouch whined. He was desperately anxious; he needed to pee at the very least.

‘God, I need a latté,’ Renée sighed. ‘Never knew how much I missed them until I got back to Spurlake. Practically drank McBean’s dry on the first day.’

Genie laughed. ‘Me, I need a smoothie. Is anyone else thirsty?’

‘You think we missed the island?’ Renée added anxiously. ‘I need to … y’know.’

‘No idea. But I hope it comes up soon; it’s going to be light in twenty minutes and we’ll be sitting ducks,’ Rian declared.

‘The water’s so smooth. I love this time of the morning,’ Genie remarked dreamily. ‘Everything is so perfectly still. No wind, nothing. Everything is just waiting to start.’

They drifted on. The light began to grow. Birds began to sing. Rian grew uneasy. They needed sanctuary and fast. The river was wider and shallower here, the left riverbank was high above them, black rock and shale. The highway was up there somewhere, easy for anyone to spot a lone raft drifting along. The railroad line ran along the other side. He was beginning to think that they should think about hitching a ride when it came through, but how often was that? Did freight trains even run any more? He wished he’d paid more attention to stuff.

An eagle shrieked above them suddenly. They looked up. A lone passenger jet was streaking across the sky at thirty thousand feet, a vapour trail in its wake.

‘An island,’ Genie whispered. ‘I see it. God, I hope it’s Bear Island.’

Renée stared ahead. She could only see some trees sticking out of the water mid-stream. Dreams of a hot shower and foaming lattés quickly evaporated.

Genie began to paddle, not going directly to the head of the island but around a small bluff. Now they could see a small wisp of smoke. A house, built on stilts, in the middle of the island.

‘Bear Island,’ Genie said with satisfaction.

Moucher jumped clear out of the raft and ran along the island riverbank barking with joy, stopping only to have that long, desperate pee. Renée wasn’t long after him. She hoped no one was peeking out of any window.

Genie turned and smiled at Rian. ‘We’ve got Ferry’s letter to deliver.’

Genie walked towards the cottage, noting that it looked pretty run-down if it was a guesthouse. She grew apprehensive as she grew closer and could see where there was a lot of water damage. The rear section of the house was part torn away. The flood must have reached here too. The whole island must have been swamped and was only now recovering. The remains of a bonfire smouldered. Clearly someone had been trying to clear debris. They shouldn’t have left a bonfire to smoulder, even if it had been raining.

‘I don’t think anyone’s here right now,’ Genie called back to the others.

She climbed the steps anyway and went up to the stoop. It too felt shaky. Clearly a lot of work needed to be done to make this place safe. There was a notice board with wire laced across it and she slipped Ferry’s letter under the wire so it would be safe.

They wouldn’t be getting any breakfast here, but at least it was a place to shelter and hide out for the day. She tried the door. It was locked. She didn’t want to trespass.

She stooped to pick up a notice that had fallen on to the path.

Regret closed following flood –

come back next year?

Betty Juniper

‘I guess there’s no bears and no porridge, hot or cold, here,’ Genie answered with a shrug. ‘It’s a shame. Must have been a cute place once.’

Rian met her at the bottom of the stairs with a big grin. He grabbed her hand and took her over to a bush filled with ripe blackberries. The prickly blackberry trails had grown right over some other bushes and although many had shrivelled, there were enough to eat. ‘I think this is why the bears like it here. Breakfast.’

Genie grinned and hugged him. She popped a ripe blackberry into her mouth, impressed by the taste. Sweeter than a strawberry. ‘They’re late. Usually finished by now. My mother wouldn’t let me eat them after October the seventh. Even if the bush was full of them. Some stupid superstition.’

‘Well, it’s September, so eat.’

‘We’ve got pear trees, absolutely laden. And huckleberries for the bears if they visit.’

Suddenly Genie felt a desperate urge; she realized she really needed to go. ‘Got to … Don’t eat all the berries, OK. Leave some for me.’ She turned and ran for the bushes, passing Renée coming from the other way.

‘I gotta sleep. I’m bushed,’ Renée declared as she reached Rian’s side. ‘The mosquitoes are
huge
around here. I got to find me a net.’

‘It’s not so bad. As long as the river flows, it keeps the bugs down. We’ll sleep up on the stoop; there’s an old sofa there. You OK in the raft, Renée?’

She nodded. ‘Sure, bugs ain’t going to crawl up through that … Help me drag it higher. I want to be in the shade.’

‘Sure.’ He dragged the raft over to a flat space under a shady tree. It was a good spot.

‘You never been camping, Renée?’

She shrugged. ‘My whole life has been camping. I’m trailer trash, remember?’

Genie returned quietly and washed her hands in the river, rubbing sand between her fingers to make sure they got clean. She looked across the narrow channel to the shoreline.

‘There used to be a footbridge to the other side. I guess the flood wiped that out too. I wonder who used to come and stay here.’

Rian looked across at some hooper birds wading in the distance. ‘Bird-watchers, people who liked to get away somewhere secret. I hope she gets to fix it up. I kind of like it.’

‘You’re seriously weird sometimes, Rian. Google should like hire you to give answers.
Ask Rian
– it could be a TV show.’

Rian looked at Renée with raised eyebrows, just checking she was being sarcastic. He shook his head. ‘Cool. That’s my life sorted. Come on, eat some berries, girl. You need something more than chips in your gut.’

Renée stuck her tongue out but she helped herself to the berries and seemed to enjoy them. ‘They’re sweet.’

Genie yawned. ‘Getting sleepy, Ri. Like now.’ She could feel herself falling asleep right by the river.

Rian strode over and scooped her up, taking her across the grass to the stairs. Genie looked at him through sleepy eyes. She smiled. ‘You’ll never get me up the stairs.’

Rian laughed and set her down. Genie walked slowly up towards the stoop, so looking forward to falling asleep on the sofa.

Mouch was already there, spread out beside it, his little tail wagging when she stepped over him. The socks he’d been wearing lay in tatters beside him. He definitely wasn’t a sock-wearing dog.

‘Listen carefully,’ Rian told the dog. ‘Wake me if you hear anything.’

Mouch let his head hit the floor. He needed sleep too.

‘It’s lumpy,’ Genie warned him.

Rian lay beside her and, even as he removed his shoes and turned back to her, she was already fast asleep.

Rian woke first, bumping his head on the arm of the old sofa he was sleeping on. He looked at the sun; it was still high in a cloudless sky. He was thirsty and needed to attend to business. He gently got up, trying not to wake Genie curled up beside him, her lips still crimson from the berries. Moucher was sprawled on the deck in the shade and barely opened one eye to check on what he was doing. Reluctantly he followed as Rian tiptoed down the steps and first headed towards the bushes, then the river.

He drank from a clear pool with a sandy bottom. It tasted sweet and fresh and he hoped it was safe to drink. Who knew what they dumped into the river upstream, but it tasted fine by him and Moucher keenly lapped from an adjoining pool.

He looked back at the stoop momentarily and saw Genie was propped up on one arm, studying him. She smiled. ‘You look cute, Ri. Wish I had a camera.’

‘Water’s good.’

Genie stretched and yawned and then slowly made her way down the steps towards him. ‘God, I feel stiff. There was a spring pressing into me just there.’ She indicated her left thigh. ‘Look, I’m bruised.’

She joined him, cupped her hands and began to drink, laughing at Moucher who was still drinking. ‘You ain’t getting in that raft until you have got that all out of you, dog.’

She looked at the channel that separated them from the mainland. ‘You think we can catch a fish?’

‘With bare hands?’

‘I guess not. Seen it done on TV though.’

‘In spring maybe. Heard there were so many fish here one time, First Nation fisherman were walking across the river on them.’

‘Yeah, but they said the same thing about the cod off Newfoundland. Where are the cod now, eh? Where’s the salmon?’

‘Wrong season maybe.’

Just to prove them wrong a huge fish flashed by, quickly followed by another salmon. They looked at each other and laughed.

‘Go fetch,’ Genie instructed Moucher, who was probably thinking the same about her. He hadn’t been impressed by berries for breakfast.

Genie grabbed Rian’s hand and squeezed it. ‘Thanks for getting us here. It’s peaceful. Reminds me of when we arrived at Marshall’s place.’

‘You got us here too.’

He pulled her towards him and they kissed. Genie pulled away. ‘Uh-uh, I don’t think my breath is so good.’

‘Genie,’ Rian complained. ‘We’re on the run. None of us are minty fresh. Eat more berries.’

Genie allowed him to hold her tight and they just gently rocked together, kneeling by the water, Moucher trying to snap a fish as another went by.

‘Genie? Ri?’ Renée called out, breaking the spell, fear in her voice.

They looked at the raft. She’d slept in there with an old mosquito net she’d found spread over her.

‘My legs. They’re gone,’ she whispered in horror. ‘I can’t see or feel my legs.’

Genie and Rian raced to her side, but they could plainly see her legs. She looked perfectly normal.

Genie took her hand. ‘It’s just a dream, Renée. Just a dream.’

But Renée looked terrified. She was staring and trying to feel for her legs. ‘They’re gone. My legs have vanished.’

Rian put his hands on her legs. ‘Renée, I’m holding them. Can’t you see?’

Renée was staring but didn’t seem to see. ‘No. They’re gone. They’re gone.’

‘Maybe she really is having a dream?’ Genie suggested. ‘Renée, wake up. Wake up, you’re dreaming,’ she shouted.

Renée looked at her with annoyance. ‘I
am
awake. My legs have gone. Look, can’t you see?’

Mouch barked, excited there was shouting.

Genie took hold of Renée’s hands and pulled them down towards her legs. ‘Tell me what you can see and feel, Renée. This? This?’

‘Can you feel this?’ Rian asked. He pinched just above her knee.

‘Ow!’

‘OK, you’re feeling. That was your knee. Can you feel your legs now?’

‘Your hands are lying on your knees now,’ Genie told her. She snatched a look at Rian; they both kind of shrugged at each other. It was too weird.

‘I’m going to rip one of your toes off,’ Rian told her.

‘Noooo.’

‘Feel this?’ He flicked her little toe.

‘OW!’

‘Guess what, Renée? You got legs. Two of them, five toes each. Five dirty toes with amber paint. Since when was amber your toe colour?’ Genie asked.

‘Amber?’ Renée sat up. She seemed to be staring at her feet, but it was hard to tell.

‘Can you see my hands?’ Genie asked.

Renée nodded.

‘They’re right here, over your –’ she pulled her hands away ‘– feet.’

‘I don’t get it,’ Renée wailed. ‘My legs are there?’

‘You are all here. Nothing missing,’ Rian assured her.

‘But …’

‘No buts. Wiggle your toes.’

It took a while but Renée closed her eyes and concentrated and her toes definitely wiggled.

‘You can’t see that?’ Genie asked.

Renée shook her head, but if she closed her eyes and pinched her legs she could feel them fine. It was just too strange.

‘This ever happen before?’ Rian asked.

Renée kept her eyes closed. Looked like she was thinking. ‘My foot. I lost my foot when I was trapped at the Fortress. I couldn’t walk until the server came back on line and …’

Rian looked at Genie. ‘Saw it on an episode of
House
, I think. Hysterical memory.’

Renée opened her eyes and looked at him. ‘Hysterical memory?’

‘Don’t ask me to like define it, but this is that. There’s nothing missing, but your brain is telling you something is. It’s remembered the time you lost your foot.’

‘All those hours watching
House
didn’t go to waste after all, Dr Tulane,’ Genie said, trying to keep it light.

Renée closed her eyes. It sort of made sense. With her eyes closed she could feel her legs. Open them and they disappeared.

She suddenly felt overwhelmingly dizzy.

‘Don’t leave me. Don’t go without me. Promise me you won’t …’ And as suddenly as she had woken she was fast asleep again.

Genie made her more comfortable and together they dragged the raft further into the shade of the tree.