Lost In Kakadu (4 page)

“Sleep in the plane, I guess,” he finally said.

Her eyes darted to the wreck and now she understood why it wasn’t on the ground. It was wedged at a forty degree angle, stuck between two giant gum trees. The damaged nose was a jagged shell, open toward the sky. The other end looked like it had been carved off by a blunt can opener. It also remained suspended above the ground, though only about a metre. A large section stripped from the side of the plane allowed her to see Spencer in his seat, gruesome and still.

She looked away. “But there are dead people in there,” she whispered.

“So what do you suggest?”

Abigail looked for an alternative. The surrounding bush was a gnarled mess of vines and trees and things she didn’t even want to consider. She’d never seen anything like it and shuddered at the thought of sleeping out here. “I guess you’re right.”

Sinking onto the warm grass, she pulled her knees to her chest. Her mind was a fog, nothing seemed real and yet each time she replayed the crash in her mind, she remembered another detail—Spencer squeezing her hand tighter, the whites of Madonna’s eyes, Charlie’s scream—and although the crash only took a couple of minutes she knew her recall could replay for hours.

Her emotions overtook her. She covered her face and tears weaved through her fingers and down her well-manicured hands.

As she wiped her nose with her fingers, she suddenly noticed tiny specks of blood across her skirt. Sucking in a shaky breath she scrubbed at the blood. A sob released from her throat but she noticed Mackenzie looking at her and swallowed it back.

One night in the jungle. I can do that
.

* * *

Despite the vicious pounding in his head, Charlie forced his eyes open. His first impression of the devastation around him was disbelief. Jagged metal, shredded wires, complete chaos and then there was lush vegetation, so close he imagined he could touch it. His seatbelt still trapped him upside down and it took an effort to release the buckle. He fell hard. Pain shot through him and he howled.

When the agony subsided and he could move again he ran his trembling fingers over his chest. It was a couple of seconds before the horror of what he was feeling hit him. The jagged lump protruding from his skin was his rib bone. A cold sweat washed over him and when he squeezed his eyes shut disjointed memories of the crash flashed into his mind—the deafening roar as the plane cleaved in two, the kaleidoscope of sparks and debris, and the front half of the plane disappearing as he fell away. Charlie sat until the silence engulfed him and he couldn’t stand it anymore.

He opened his eyes and gasped when he saw a body dangling above him. He recognised the man who’d sat beside him. “Tom?”

Tom’s hands hung below him, lurid and purple, and a drop of blood fell and landed in a dark pool beneath the motionless body. Hundreds of ants had formed a thick black circle around the puddle.

Charlie blinked.
How long was I blacked out?

Sweat dribbled down his temple. He wiped his forehead and dragged his legs to his chest to stand. When he reached for Tom, excruciating pain shot up his body.

“Tom?” His voice was a tortured whisper.

He touched Tom’s shoulder but got no response. Fighting delirium and sucking in short sharp breaths he felt for Tom’s pulse. There wasn’t one.

He’d just been chatting with the burly photographer. How could this be? Charlie slid to the cabin floor and wept.

When he could cry no more, he wiped his burning eyes and licked his cracked lips. Beyond the cabin, a sepia colour washed over the foliage and Charlie realised the sun was setting.
It must be nearly six o’clock.
His heart pounded as he calculated he’d been unconscious for at least two hours.
Where is everyone?

A shrub, covered in small surfboard-shaped leaves caught his eye. The leaves were a mixture of red and green and he stared at it searching for the tell-tale sign it was the
Pityrodia jamesii
plant. Several grasshoppers with fire-red and blue colours nestled in amongst the distinct leaves. The Leichhardt grasshopper was a rare sight as they lived only on this plant in Kakadu.
At least I know where I am.
But this discovery only distressed him more. Now he knew just how far he was from civilisation.

Charlie hauled himself up, stepped over a mass of colourful wires and staggered away from the wreckage. The smell of burnt rubber and pine mingled together. Cool air teased his thin arms and he rubbed some warmth in. But with each painful step, fear inched its way into his brain. He couldn’t see the other half of the plane. He was all alone.

He took another step. Stabbing pain ripped up his back.

Charlie fell to the ground, threw up and passed out.

* * *

Mackenzie’s watch beeped at six o’clock and he couldn’t help but think of what he should be doing. Instead of sitting by a cosy fire sipping the icy cold beer that the brochure had offered, he was grappling with a situation beyond belief. He shook his head trying to focus on the now. “I think we have about twenty hours before they find us. We should do a few things to get ready for the night.”

Abigail sat on the grass, staring into the bush. Blood from the gash on her forehead had dribbled over her nose and looked more like a stain on her alabaster skin. Her red eyes looked sore, black mascara semi-circles smudged below them. “Such as?” she said.

“For starters we should see what we have to eat and drink.”

She groaned at his suggestion.

Mackenzie walked around her, forcing his eyes to focus on the back of the plane rather than Rodney’s lifeless body. He needed to keep busy.

The shredded edge of the cabin was suspended off the ground at shoulder height and he needed all his strength to haul himself up. As he lay on the floor he spied a bag trapped beneath Toni’s seat and crawled forward.

An agonising scream made him jump.

“Help me!”

His heart raced at the sound of terror in Abigail’s voice and when he scrambled to the ground he saw her spinning in circles, slapping her arms.

He ran to her. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m covered in ants. They’re biting me.”

Masses of tiny ants scurried over her back and angry bites already dotted her neck. He yanked off her suit coat and tried to slap the ants away without hurting her.

When they’d flicked them all off, Abigail did little but stare at the red welts along her arms and whimper like a puppy wanting company.

He felt her pain. “Come on. We might find a first aid kit.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and as he guided her toward the plane he noticed the floral scent of her hair. It seemed out of place.

They stood beneath the cabin and stared up into the shattered wreck. He knew it was a miracle they’d survived and a sudden recollection of fighting with Rodney over who’d take the window seat crushed his heart. Losing that debate had saved his life.

“What do we do with them?” Abigail whispered as if they could hear.

“I don’t know.” He scanned the mess. “Let’s see if we can find something to cover them with.”

Mackenzie pulled himself into the cabin, opened the only overhead locker and clutched a small case that tumbled out. “Here, catch this.” He tossed the bag toward
Abigail’s outstretched arms and she grunted as she caught it. “Take it outside. We’ll check it in a minute.”

She obeyed in silence and disappeared out the back.

He searched along the aisle, avoiding the bodies. When he reached the front, he braced himself against the damaged doorway and inspected the cockpit. The pilot was unrecognisable. It was hard to believe the scattered blood and flesh once belonged to a human. He’d seen blood before, lots of it, but this was somehow not as gut wrenching, probably because he didn’t actually know the pilot. He still backed away from the door, fighting a fresh urge to throw up.

He paused where Rodney sat and felt like his heart would implode. Tears ran freely as he touched the cheek of the man he loved. Rodney had joked on many occasions he’d go with a martini in one hand and a duck pate canapé in the other. “A quick heart attack would do it, as long as I don’t dribble,” he’d say light-heartedly. He was handsome and took immense pride in his appearance. He would’ve been devastated to end his life like this. Mackenzie turned away, choking back tears.

He spied a bottle wedged in Madonna’s front seat pocket. “I found water.”

He tossed the bottle toward the aisle. It landed with a hollow thud and rolled toward the back of the plane and vanished into the hole.

“What about our suitcases?” Abigail’s voice echoed in the hollow space.

“They’re in the nose of the plane, remember?”

“That’s right.” She gasped. “Oh God. The pilot … He knew something was wrong.”

“What’re you talking about?” He walked back to the hole and looked down at her as she recalled the details of the pilot and the man in the yellow vest arguing near the plane.

“Jesus. Why didn’t you tell someone?”

“I tried to, but Spencer didn’t believe me.”

“Didn’t he see it?”

“No. He was too busy with his secretary.” Her eyes looked distant.

“They wouldn’t let the plane take off if something was wrong.”

“Obviously.” She rolled her eyes.

He crouched down at the edge. “Look out. I’m coming down.”

He jumped down and stepped into the open air. A light breeze licked at the sweat on his forehead. The sound of running water made him spin around. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What?” She frowned, flicking excess water off her hands.

“We need that water.”

“There’s heaps here.”

“For now. But what if they don’t find us tomorrow?”

“Of course they’ll find us.”

“You don’t know that. It could be days.”

She blinked, opened mouthed. “Oh God! How many days?”

“We’re in the middle of a jungle. They could take a week to find us.”

She cupped her hands over her ears. “Shut up. Just shut up.” Her lips bunched together and she looked on the verge of crumbling. But then she straightened her shoulders and looked up at him. Mackenzie held her stare. Despair and determination mingled in her dark green eyes.

“Spencer’s family will start the search immediately.”

“All I’m saying is go steady with the water until we’re rescued.”

“So say that then. Don’t say stupid things.” She scratched the ant bites.

Her tendency to flit from confident to insecure kept catching him off guard. He prayed for a swift rescue. “Let’s see what’s useful in this bag.” The travel case had a toiletries bag, a jacket, camera, a book and a Snickers chocolate bar.

He held the chocolate toward her. “Are you hungry?”

Abigail’s unblinking eyes were green pools of fear. “We’re going to starve.”

Now she’s insecure again
. “Don’t be silly. Many people have survived for longer than twenty hours with just a chocolate bar. Besides we haven’t looked in the handbags yet.”

He rummaged through the other bags. “At least we’ll have fresh breath when we’re rescued.” He held up a packet of breath mints.

“Jesus.” She folded her arms across her stomach.

“Hey, we haven’t checked the other luggage yet.”

As he walked to the front of the plane a wind gust released a shower of leaves from the towering trees. Mackenzie felt the eyes of the deceased watching him as he strode to the cargo door. A gum tree as wide as his chest was jammed up against the door.

“Shit!” he muttered.

He looked up at the nose of the plane, now crushed to about a third of its normal length. The smell of petrol fumes caught his attention and he saw a small drop of amber liquid drip from the metal and land in the red dirt where it was quickly absorbed.

“Get me a water bottle, will you?” He heard Abigail’s steps moving away as he inspected the undercarriage. One of the wheels was completely destroyed with the rubber dangling off it like an old muddy sock. The other was miraculously intact.

When Abigail returned she thrust a water bottle in his face.

He jumped back. “What’s your problem?”

“Why are you allowed water and not me?”

“I don’t want the water.” He pointed at the leaking petrol. “I want to catch these fuel drips.”

“Oh.” She diverted her eyes.

“Drink as much as you want. I need an empty bottle.”

She removed the lid, wiped the rim on her shirt and then gulped down a third of the water before she handed it back.

Quickly finishing the bottle, he lined the bottle opening up under the drips. “Can you hold this here to catch these drips?”

He moved back and Abigail crouched down and took the bottle from him. Mackenzie ran his fingers around the cargo door, but knew it was pointless. “It’s jammed shut. We’re never getting in there.”

Backing away from the plane, he looked up at Rodney. His handsome features were now contorted into a ghastly Halloween mask and Mackenzie crumbled at the sight. He tore his eyes away. Through the trees, he noticed the sky turning slate blue and realised it would be dark soon.
We need a fire
.

Eucalyptus and petrol smells filled the air offering up an idea. He walked to the cases and emptied out a toiletries bag. Abigail was concentrating on catching every dribble when he returned to the undercarriage and dropped onto his hands and knees.

Abigail jumped back. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Shit, lady, what’s wrong with you?” He glared up at her. “I’m just collecting the dirt covered in petrol.”

“Oh. You startled me.”

He scooped handfuls of wet dirt into the toiletries bag and carried it back to the bags. For the umpteenth time he listened for a plane, or any sign he was about to be rescued. But it was silent, too silent. He shook his head and reached for a black canvas bag that was labelled Toni Walker and smiled as he removed a lighter soon after.

Scraps of paper were everywhere. He gathered a small pile and a collection of sticks along with a huge branch. It appeared to have been broken off in the collision as its shredded end still beaded amber coloured sap. The fuel laden dirt was a perfect fire starter that he sprinkled in a circle. He flicked the lighter and soon the fire was so big he had to move several steps back.