The Other Side of Nowhere Page 9

  ‘What?’ said Matt peering over my shoulder.

  ‘What do you mean, “what”? Look, you moron. It’s a cigarette butt.’

  Matt looked at what I was holding and then snorted, giving me his best you’re the moron look. ‘So?’ he said.

  ‘So, there was someone up here yesterday.’

  Matt laughed and rolled his eyes. ‘Good one, Sherlock.’

  ‘Matt! It’s a fresh cigarette butt.’

  ‘Matt, it’s a fresh cigarette butt,’ he parroted in a whiny voice. ‘How d’you know that it’s fresh?’

  George leant in to take a closer look. ‘You’re making it out to be, I don’t know, suspicious,’ she said. ‘So what if someone was here yesterday? Isn’t that a good thing? I mean, maybe they can help us.’

  ‘Then why didn’t they?’ I snapped. It was bad enough having to put up with Matt’s stupidity. I couldn’t believe George wasn’t getting it either. ‘You don’t think it’s weird someone would watch us with The Dolphin, and not do anything?’

  She stood up and shrugged. ‘I don’t know … Maybe The Dolphin had sunk by the time they arrived. Maybe they didn’t realise we needed help. Maybe – ’

  ‘Maybe Johnno’s just panicking over nothing,’ finished Matt. ‘Gee, what a surprise!’

  ‘I’m not panicking,’ I shot back. ‘I just think –’

  ‘Yeah, that’s your problem,’ Matt interrupted. ‘You think too much.’

  ‘Better than not thinking at all,’ I growled.

  ‘Oh, just shut up, you two,’ yelled George, stepping between us. She looked fed up. ‘None of this is helping to find Nick. C’mon. We’ve come this far … let’s just keep going for a bit. Johnno, I promise, if we don’t find him on the next beach we’ll turn back. Okay?’

  I stared into the distance, furious that neither of them was taking a word I said seriously.

  ‘Shall we take another vote?’ said Matt, baiting me.

  ‘No, I don’t want another vote,’ I said with a groan.

  ‘Shame … I’d vote you biggest tool on the island.’

  I swung at him, but he was too quick. He danced away from me, laughing and giving me the finger. Then he turned and ran off along the path.

  ‘Just ignore him,’ implored George, as she turned to follow Matt.

  I dropped the cigarette butt and trod on it, grinding it into the dirt. Then I stepped cautiously to the edge and peered over. The rocks where The Dolphin had run aground were directly below. Someone had been watching us yesterday when I saw that flash of light. They’d stood right here and did nothing to help. I knew it was true – but why? That was the question I couldn’t get out of my head.

  A wind gust blew up, causing a shiver to run down my spine. I definitely didn’t want to be up here anymore. For a split second I seriously considered going back to camp on my own. But I knew I’d never do it. I wouldn’t really leave George and Matt alone. So reluctantly I stepped back from the cliff and followed the others until the next beach came into view.

  It was a narrow band of sand surrounded on three sides by more towering cliffs. Splitting the beach in two was a stream running out from the base of the cliff all the way down to the water’s edge. It was a steep, slow walk down. When we reached the bottom, Matt somehow had enough energy to jog across the beach to check out the stream. By the time George and I reached him, he was splashing about like a baby in a bath.

  ‘It’s not salty,’ he yelled excitedly as George and I approached.

  I squatted down, and scooped a handful of stream water into my mouth. Matt was right. It was fresh all right, even better than tap water.

  George lay down on her back, fully clothed, and laughed as she splashed water into the air.

  Rolling over on her stomach, she flicked water at Matt, getting him right in the face. When he saw her cheeky grin, it was on. He stood up and started kicking wildly. I jumped in, too. Water flew everywhere as we splashed, bombed and tackled each other until, exhausted and with our guts aching from laughter, we fell onto our backs and let the cool water flow around us.

  At first, the glare from the sun made it difficult to make out more than the outlines of the three figures standing over us. But as my eyes adjusted, I recognised one of them. Standing at the back, head slightly bowed, was Nick. There was a momentary sense of relief as he came into focus, but it passed quickly as I took in the other two.

  One was big. Unnaturally big. Not just tall, but thick through his body, with pumped-up arms folded across his pumped-up chest. A cigarette hung from his lips, its pale smoke partly obscuring his crooked nose and podgy, pockmarked face.

  The other man was thin, wiry and not much taller than Nick. He stepped forward, extending his hand. I took it, and his spidery fingers reached up to my wrist and wrapped around tight. It was a cold, uncomfortable touch.

  ‘I am Zaffar,’ he said with a thick accent and a fake smile.

  I tried to catch Nick’s eye, but he just looked down at his feet. My mind was racing with questions. Who are these guys? How did Nick end up with them? Why did he have to wander off without telling anyone? Why couldn’t he have just stayed on the beach with the rest of us and waited for his dad to come?

  All I wanted to do was ask Nick what the hell was going on. But Zaffar was standing in the way. When he’d finished introducing himself to the others, he stepped back with hands on hips. The big bald guy said nothing, just stood back watching through a cloud of smoke.

  ‘Well, here you are, Nicky,’ Zaffar said, turning to Nick. ‘Here are your friends. They came for you, just like we told you they would.’ Zaffar was looking pretty pleased with himself.

  Nicky? I thought. No-one called him Nicky. Ever.

  But Nick didn’t react. He just gave an imperceptible nod, barely looking up. ‘Yep, they sure did.’

  ‘So then,’ Zaffar continued, his dark eyes darting from one to another of us, ‘sounds like you’ve had many excitements lately.’

  My mind start spinning, trying to guess what Nick might have told these creeps. That we were the advance party of 200 army cadets about to appear over the hill any minute? That our folks were back at camp, wondering where on earth we were? Or maybe he’d just told them the truth.

  ‘You could say that,’ I said blandly.

  ‘But everyone is okay, yes?’ Zaffar said, clapping his hands.

  ‘Uh, yeah. Thanks,’ I answered.

  ‘Our boat sank, though,’ Matt chimed in.

  I shot him a look that screamed Just shut up! But he either didn’t notice or was ignoring me, as usual.

  ‘Sank, yes?’ said Zaffar, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Nick. ‘You didn’t tell us that, Nicky.’

  ‘And Nick busted his shoulder too,’ continued Matt, nodding at George. ‘But George fixed it.’

  Zaffar turned his attention to George, his gaze lingering as he eyed her up and down. ‘You don’t say,’ he said again.

  I saw George smile politely, but noticed she wouldn’t hold his stare. Her singlet was saturated from our water fight and clung tightly to her body, the candy stripes of her bikini clearly showing through. The big guy, who still hadn’t uttered a word, was staring at her as well.

  These dudes were some seriously menacing creeps.

  Unfortunately Matt was clueless. As he prattled on, I noticed Nick out of the corner of my eye. He bent down and, with a magician’s sleight of hand, wrapped his fingers around something he’d uncovered in the sand and dropped it into his pocket. He saw me looking at him and gave me a barely perceptible nod. That’s when I knew for sure I wasn’t just being paranoid. Something was seriously wrong with this picture. My skin prickled on the back of my neck.

  ‘Well, I see. Yes, that is a story, no?’ said Zaffar as Matt finished. He turned to Nick. ‘Sorry to hear about your boat. But you are not hurt. So it is okay, yes?’

  Nick nodded, acknowledging the point. ‘Speaking of boats,’ he asked, casually looking around, ‘where’s yours?’

  Zaffar loo
ked sad, but like he was putting it on. ‘Ah, but of course. Now you could use a boat, yes? But you see, we were, um, dropped off. A friend dropped us off and he won’t be back for, let me think … two more days.’

  ‘Gotcha,’ said Nick with a shrug. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got a phone, then?’

  Zaffar paused as if he considered the question. ‘Of course. You want to call your family, to let them know you are safe. Yes?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Matt said. ‘That’d be awesome.’

  Zaffar clapped a hand on Nick’s shoulder. ‘And perhaps something to drink, too, yes? Please, you will be our guests,’ he said, shepherding Nick up the beach.

  The bald guy waited until we’d all walked past, then fell in close behind George. I felt a flush of anger at the thought of him staring at her, and for a moment considered dropping back between them. But I also wanted to listen to Zaffar and Nick. George flashed me a reassuring smile, so I quickened my step to catch up to them.

  ‘So you’ve been here for what, two nights? But no-one has come to get you?’ asked Zaffar, watching Nick closely as he walked beside him.

  Nick shook his head and gave a wry smile. ‘Good question. I’ll be grilling my old man when he finally turns up, that’s for sure.’

  ‘He won’t be far away now,’ I interrupted.

  Zaffar glanced back, his eyes narrowing, ‘Of course,’ he said dismissively, without breaking stride. He didn’t believe my lie for a second.

  As we crested a sandbank at the back of the beach I saw a grassy clearing in the shadow of the cliff. Set in the middle were two small green tents and a couple of camping chairs around a fire. Hanging from a makeshift frame of sticks over the fire was black pot.

  ‘Make yourselves at home,’ said Zaffar, motioning for us to sit.

  Matt didn’t hesitate, plonking himself down in one of the chairs. But George sat on the grass, tucking her legs beneath her. Nick and I stood next to the fire.

  ‘A cup of tea?’ asked Zaffar, bending down to pick up a couple of empty mugs sitting near the fire.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Nick, nodding.

  George shook her head and smiled politely, ‘No thanks.’

  ‘Nothing for me either,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got a Coke?’ asked Matt, ever the optimist.

  Zaffar opened a small blue Esky by the side of the tent. ‘You are in luck, young man.’ He pulled out a can of Coke and tossed it to Matt.

  ‘Awesome!’

  Zaffar lifted the pot from out of the fire and filled the mugs with steaming tea. He took a sip and then set his mug down on the ground. ‘Ah, where’s the phone?’ he said, before disappearing into one of the tents.

  I edged closer to Nick as Baldy squeezed into the chair beside us. He didn’t utter a word, just sat and stared into the fire. When Zaffar reappeared, his face was creased in a puzzled frown. His fingers were fiddling with what I guessed was a satellite phone.

  ‘Well that’s a nuisance,’ he said. ‘It was working perfectly this morning. Must be the batteries,’ he said, holding it up as if that somehow proved it didn’t work. ‘But no mind. Please relax, drink … I am sure your father will be here very soon.’

  It soon became apparent, however, that even if I’d wanted to relax around these weirdos, it would have been impossible. Zaffar just fired question after question at us.

  Nick did most of the talking, with Matt on hand to embellish. I just nodded every now and then. All I wanted to do was get away from these two. But try as I might, I couldn’t work out how we could. I mentally listed our escape options. There was the sea, which was obviously out of the question, and then cliffs that bordered the beach and scrub similarly to the beach we’d made camp on.

  The stream cut the beach almost perfectly in half. On the far side there was a wide expanse of sand before a rocky point at the end of the beach. There might be a way over the rocks, but it could just as easily be a dead-end, and there would be no way of telling until we got there.

  On the near side of the stream, behind the camp, a thick scrub-covered gully went from the beach to the top of the cliff. Nestled between the crevices in the cliff, it looked like a thin green ribbon laid over the red brown rock. It would be a steep, slow climb up there. That left only one real option: back the way we had come. A hundred-metre dash across the sand.

  Zaffar noisily slurped the last of his tea and placed his mug on the ground before heading back into the tent. Desperate for a leak, I wandered over to a bush just off to the side of the camp. Then something caught my eye. Tucked behind the tents, almost hidden from view, was a stack of cardboard boxes. There must have been at least eight of them, all lined up neatly. On each box there was writing in a language I couldn’t read. I craned my neck to get a better look, but before I could see anything else, a giant shadow appeared beside me. I turned my back and tried to ignore the sound of a stream of piss hitting the sand behind me, and finished up as quickly as I could. When Baldy was done, he pulled out another smoke, lit it and strolled a few metres away as I made my way back to the others.

  As soon as Baldy turned his back, George grabbed Nick’s arm and leant in close. ‘We were so worried about you,’ she whispered earnestly. I could read in her eyes that she really was genuinely worried.

  ‘Not that worried,’ I corrected, grumpily.

  Nick glanced at me, then back at George. He shrugged dismissively. ‘No need to be.’

  ‘Why did you just wander off like that?’ she continued, with a furtive look over her shoulder.

  ‘Couldn’t sleep.’

  George grunted, clearly frustrated by his answer. But I knew Nick. If he wasn’t in a mood to talk there was no way she was going to make him.

  ‘Where’d you come across these two?’ I whispered.

  He nodded towards the far end of the beach. ‘I was over there. They just appeared behind me, out of nowhere. They told me they’re here to fish. Well, that’s total crap. No-one comes to fish on this side of the island. There are a thousand better places.’

  ‘There’s something else that’s really weird,’ I whispered. ‘A whole pile of boxes, behind the tent.’

  ‘What sort of boxes?’ murmured Nick.

  ‘I can’t read what it says on them. But it doesn’t look like your average camping supplies.’

  George looked puzzled. ‘So if they’re not fishing, what are they doing here?’

  I glanced anxiously at the big bald guy and the cigarette dangling on his lip. It was easy to imagine him standing at the top of the cliff, smoking and watching us with The Dolphin the day before, then dropping the butt I had found on the path and squashing it into the sandy soil with his boot.

  ‘So what do we do?’ I said in an even softer whisper.

  ‘Well, for a start, I’m going to tell them we’re leaving,’ Nick said, decisively. ‘Guess we’ll see what happens then.’

  George looked worried. I was used to Nick’s decisiveness being more than matched by his impulsiveness, but I could tell George was still trying to make sense of what was going on. Nick was moving too fast for her. She reached for his arm and was about to say something when Zaffar pushed through the tent flap. He was holding up two cans of soup. ‘A choice,’ he said, reading the labels, ‘vegetable or pumpkin?’

  ‘Actually, we’d better be getting back,’ said Nick looking skyward. ‘It’ll be getting dark soon.’

  Zaffar pulled a face like he’d been sorely offended. ‘No, no. Please, you must stay tonight.’ He smiled at George in a way that made my skin crawl. ‘Young lady, you have my tent. You boys, sleep out here. A perfect night for it, yes?’

  ‘Thanks,’ Nick said, smiling. ‘But we don’t want to put you out. Besides, we’ve got all our gear back at camp.’

  Zaffar took a couple of steps towards Nick. ‘You can get it in the morning, no?’ he said, his eyes fixing on Nick’s. ‘We’ll give you a hand.’

  There was something in the tone of his voice that made my pulse quicken.

  �
��Look, Mr Zaffar, that’s very generous,’ Nick said, placing his mug on the ground, ‘but really, we’ll be fine.’

  As he straightened, Zaffar moved closer again until he was standing right in front of Nick, almost toe to toe. ‘But my friend. I must insist.’

  It was no longer an invitation. It was an order. Nick stood taller, chest out, his eyes fixed on Zaffar. George and I stood close behind him. I shot a glance at Matt. He was still sitting in the deckchair, head back, Coke in hand, seemingly oblivious to the stand-off.

  I became acutely aware of everything around me. A gull squawked as it circled above. A powerful wave broke on the shore with a dull crash. A cricket chirped in the grass. But then the sound of my heart thumping filled my head and pushed all other sounds aside.

  Neither Nick nor Zaffar spoke or moved for a few more seconds. Then Zaffar stepped away. He reached behind his back and in an unhurried, almost nonchalant movement, he pulled out a small, dark gun. He aimed it directly at the centre of Nick’s forehead.

  ‘Sorry, Nicky. I really do insist.’

  Nick stared defiantly at the barrel of the gun only centimetres from his face. My eyes were fixed on the bony finger curling around the trigger and the thrumming in my head kicked into overdrive.

  ‘I ask you only once,’ Zaffar said, calmly. ‘Sit down.’

  George’s jaw was set firmly, but I could see the terror in her eyes. It was probably the same terror I had in my own.

  Reluctantly, Nick sat down on the grass. George reached for his hand and clasped it tightly in her lap. For a completely illogical, crazy second, my stomach squeezed at the sight of his hand in hers. Then I came to my senses again.

  The bald guy stormed over to Zaffar, suddenly animated and speaking furiously in a language I couldn’t identify. Zaffar, just as agitated, argued back. He waved the gun around like a conductor with a baton.

  Finally he barked in English, ‘Stay here and watch them, yes? Can you at least do that?’

  Then he stormed off into the tent. Seconds later, he emerged with the satellite phone, punching numbers into its keypad.