Monkey Business (18 page)

Kitty tried to pick herself up off the ground, having been pummelled into it by me, and I gave her a warning glare. She crawled over to Joe and stood behind him. Joe picked up the gun and flung it deep into the jungle.

‘Hey! That is Samson's,' she said.

Joe said, ‘It's empty.'

‘You Australian people are not fun,' said Kitty and stamped her foot. ‘Not fun at all.'

But I wasn't listening because Jack was walking towards me again, eyes fixed on my face, looking angry, dismayed, horrified, lots of different things. But not happy.

He stood before me, fists on hips, breathing hard, staring at me with disbelief in those telltale eyes. I stayed silent, waiting to see what he'd do next. His gaze travelled up and down my body and he said to me, his voice hoarse and soft, barely a whisper, ‘How am I going to get you out of here alive?'

‘I —'

‘How?'

I shook my head. ‘It'll be okay —'

But he was walking away again.

I asked Joe if we should go after Jack but he said no, that we should just wait. He said that Jack had had a big shock and needed to get his head around what had happened. I wasn't sure what big shock Joe was referring to. Getting captured? Kitty trying to bonk him? My hair? By the time Jack turned up again, Joe was sitting against a tree; Kitty was looking impatient, staying very close to Joe and saying again that she no longer liked Australian people because we were all so boring. I stood in a clearing because I figured that was the least likely place to find something crawly.

Ignoring me, Jack took Kitty by the arm and pulled her away from Joe. I made a move towards them – I hated seeing Jack touch her – but Joe stood, a hand out to stop me.

Jack said to Kitty, ‘You know how to find Berringer's camp from here?'

She pouted. ‘Perhaps.'

‘You'll take me there.' He turned to Joe. ‘Take Erica to the coast.'

Kitty clapped her hands.

I said, ‘No!' and Joe moved in.

‘What's the deal?' said Joe, quietly.

Jack said, ‘I came here to do a job. I'm not leaving without finishing it.'

I said, ‘You mean Rupert Berringer?'

Joe said, ‘We'll find the camp. We don't need her.' He glanced at Kitty.

‘No, we don't need her,' I threw into the ring.

Joe added, ‘You've got no weapons.'

‘He stole my knife,' Kitty complained.

There it was, strapped to Jack's arm.

Jack said, ‘I'll have weapons when I get there.'

‘No way, man,' said Joe.

The tension around us spiked. Jack and Joe faced off. I shuffled back. Kitty leaned in, thrilled, wallowing in the testosterone.

Jack said to Joe, his voice icy, ‘You got a problem, soldier?'

‘Yeah, I've got a problem.'

‘Boys,' I said, but Jack held up a hand and my mouth snapped shut.

To Joe he said, ‘That's a direct order.'

‘This is bullshit,' said Joe. ‘We need to discuss this.'

‘Nothing to discuss.'

Joe stepped up to Jack and they were almost nose-to-nose. I squeezed between them, facing Jack, my hands on his chest. It was like standing between two brick walls. Two stubborn brick walls.

I said, ‘I think I have a right to be part of this decision-making.'

Jack glanced down at me, barely tilting his head. His glare changed to a small frown and it was enough to break the tension. Gripping my upper arms, he lifted me and placed me behind him, next to Kitty. That action put a slightly larger space between the boys, and probably bruises on my arms. Kitty scooted around to the other side of the boys.

Joe said, ‘Erica's right. We should all discuss this.'

Jack turned away. ‘No discussion, lieutenant. That's an order.'

Joe stormed off into the jungle.

I said to Jack, ‘You're being a bully,' but he ignored me. Again.

The four of us stood in a clearing. Joe with fingers splayed on his hips, looking at the ground; me with arms crossed, tapping my toe, mouth pursed like a cat's bum; Kitty looking as smug as the proverbial cream-eating puss.

‘You know what to do,' said Jack. ‘Joe, you hearing me?'

Joe nodded once. Poor guy.

Jack said to me, ‘You'll do
exactly
what Joe tells you.'

I turned my head, looked away. He gently held my chin, forced me to look at him. And that's what we did for about ten seconds – just looked at each other. Even grim and grubby he was beautiful, and my resolve to hate him forever melted a little. His lips parted and I wondered if he was going to say something. But instead he ran his thumb down my cheek; it was so swift and light it might have been an accident. He walked away, with Kitty trotting after him. She gave me a wave and I gave her the finger.

I called out, ‘So, we'll see you at home?'

Jack lifted his hand, but didn't look back.

I started crying again, more from anger than distress. And then I was angry with myself for being such a crybaby and I stamped my foot, picked up a rock and threw it.

Joe stepped away. I huffed, turned my back on him and glared at a tree. Joe patted my shoulder, tentatively, said, ‘I know how you feel.'

‘Sorry, Joe.' I looked at him.

‘It'll be all right,' he said. ‘Jack knows what he's doing.' But he didn't sound very convinced.

I nodded. Let's pretend, I thought.

‘What went wrong with the mission?' I said. ‘What happened?'

‘I'll tell you. Let's walk.'

And we did. Walked and talked. I told Joe I was aware that Rupert Berringer was their target (and that I'd figured that out all by myself) and he told me more about our friend-turned-bad-guy Mick Jansen and his military history with Saint Sebastian – the reason Jansen was recruited to Jack's team in the first place. Joe told me how Jansen managed to sabotage Jack's plans to find and kill Rupert Berringer, and led him into a trap. I didn't think Tupperware thievery necessarily deserved a death sentence, but maybe it had political ramifications that needed to be addressed. Like the JFK/Marilyn Monroe situation. But different. It occurred to me again that if I'd never pointed the finger at Mick Jansen, none of this would have happened.

‘What about Samson?' I said. ‘How did you end up prisoners at his place?'

‘Samson and Berringer are friends.' Joe shrugged. ‘Berringer didn't care if we lived or died. He just wanted us out of his way. So he gave us to Samson to show off to his mates.'

I remembered what Samson said, something like,
now that I've shown off my catch
 . . . Jack and Joe had been on death row. I wondered if they knew.

Joe said, reading my thoughts, ‘Don't know how long he would've kept us. I reckon we were croc food.' And while on that subject, ‘We should eat.'

I looked around. ‘What do we eat? Or will I be sorry I asked?'

‘I'll fix something.'

Joe the fixer. He's the fixer back in Melbourne, too, doing whatever needs to be done: bake a cake, mow the lawn, blow up a car, kill someone. But whatever Joe does, he's always got Jack's back. That's what he cares about most. And now he'd been ordered to watch his friend walk away to certain death, probably, and he's supposed to be okay with that. Jack was being a bit of a bum-hole, and I realised suddenly that I had no intention of going back to Melbourne without him. God, I'd come this far. As if! And as if I was going to let Kitty get her grubby mitts on him. Now, I just needed to work out how to wangle that – escaping Joe and finding Jack again.

Joe reappeared with two bananas. They weren't all nice and yellow and smooth like the ones at the IGA. Something had already nibbled on one of them.

‘I saw some coconuts,' he said, handing me the un-nibbled banana. ‘I'll get them.' And off he went again.

Off I went too, banana in hand, retracing my steps, trying to remember which path Jack had taken, wondering how the hell I was going to find him and hoping like hell Joe would find me if I didn't.

By the time Joe did find me I was crying again, awed by my own stupidity and gall. Imagine if I'd got completely lost in the jungle, never to be found again. Jack would carry on with his mission, perhaps succeeding, and then he'd fly home to Melbourne – falling asleep on the plane with a smile and visions of beer and fat steaks on the barbie with his buddy, and me there ready to take him to bed and do pretty much anything he wanted – not realising in fact that his charges were still roaming the wilderness, one in a Catwoman suit with little but tampons in her survival kit, the other trying to find the stupid girl, knowing his buddy would kill him if he didn't.

The reason Joe found me was because I was making so much noise, what with an eighty-denier cobweb wrapped around my head, its bulbous resident trapped against my temple, both of us scrabbling to be free of the other. The monster had dropped at my feet and fled into the jungle, and I'd stood there in shock for a full minute before the horror swarmed through me, causing my body to spasm as I swiped and slapped myself all over to be rid of any trace of the creature from the very deepest, darkest part of hell. I'd definitely need counselling for this.

When I saw Joe I threw myself at him, sobbing on his chest. He took me by the shoulders and shook me. ‘What were you thinking?'

‘I'm sorry. I'm sorry!'

But I think Joe wanted to cry too. Cry with relief that he'd found me, because the consequences of him
not
finding me were not worth considering. He was worried of course that the spider had bitten me and whether or not it was deadly. But I didn't care because I thought death would be better than living with the memory of it anyway, that it had been
on
me was a knowledge I'd have to bear for the rest of my life, its deadliness just an aside. It didn't bite me though. I think it was too terrified. Maybe it had a heart attack. Maybe
it
would need counselling. Maybe I'd meet it in the shrink's waiting room. Maybe I needed to stop thinking about it.

Once I was able to make any kind of sense, Joe tried to turn me around, to head back to where we'd been. Automatically I tried to obey him, walk with him, but every part of my being was pulling me towards Jack. I felt sick. I stopped.

‘Joe, I want to be with Jack. I've come too far, been through too much. I can't go home without him.'

‘We can't,' he said unconvincingly. ‘Jack will kill me.' Joe probably would have liked me to have some kind of rank so he could say, ‘That's an order, soldier.'

‘We can. And of course he won't kill you. You're his best friend. Besides, I'll take the blame.'

I think he said a small prayer then, looking skyward before shutting his eyes briefly and taking a big breath. Joe wanted to be with Jack anyway, I knew that. He just needed a good enough excuse to disobey those direct orders, and I was giving him one. Erica kept running away, he could say.

‘All right,' he said. ‘Let's go find Jack.'

I stepped aside. ‘You first.'

When the rain falls in this region it comes like it's avenging something. Angry and hard, it threw itself at the forest canopy above, pounding through it, descending on us like a heavy, wet blanket. But at least we had water, and Joe used a furled palm leaf to fill my bottle in about three seconds flat. I drank from that leaf until I couldn't drink any more.

‘Watch for leeches,' Joe said as he led me through the waterfall that used to be a jungle.

‘Leeches? Great. Let me see now. I need to watch out for snakes, crocs, wild boar, Jurassic-sized spiders and of course there's those cute orange frogs —'

‘Erica.'

‘Well, I'm sorry, but it'd be good if you didn't actually mention these things.' At least with the rain I could no longer hear the jungle moving around us. I couldn't hear anything in fact, so imagine my surprise when I was grabbed from behind, hand over my mouth and knife at my throat.

‘Jesus Christ!' said my captor, releasing me, pushing me away.

Joe spun, alert, horror on his face when he saw what had happened. Jack had very nearly sliced my throat, which of course would have defeated the purpose of Joe being charged, by Jack, with my protection. Kitty was peering at us from behind a palm frond.

There was the expected argument between Jack and Joe that threatened to turn violent, but I ended that by stepping between them and announcing that it didn't matter what Jack said, I wasn't leaving him and he couldn't make me. Well, he probably could, but not without a big fuss from me, which could include some life-risking stupidity.

Kitty called out, ‘I think you should go home, Erica Jewell!' and quickly hid again.

Joe said, ‘Look, you take Erica and I'll find Berringer.'

Kitty said, ‘No!'

Jack's anger was softened by that very generous offer. ‘You know I won't allow that.'

‘And yet you expect me to,' said Joe.

They stared at each other for a few seconds more, and Jack hung his head.

I said again, ‘I'm not leaving you, Jack. You don't know what I've been through to get here.'

He walked slowly away from us, eyes on the ground. Finally he returned, and looked at me. ‘If you're killed or hurt because of me —'

Kitty said, ‘What if
I'm
killed or hurt? You would be unhappy, yes?'

‘I'm the one likely to hurt you, Kitty,' he said without taking his eyes off me. ‘Be quiet.'

I nearly poked my tongue at her. Instead I said to Jack, ‘You were saying?'

He regarded the three of us in turn. His looked at me for the longest time. ‘All right, let's go home.' Kitty pouted and stamped her foot. I felt like clapping my hands. But I didn't because it was all such serious business, and there was of course the fact that we might not survive anyway.