One Dead Seagull (29 page)

‘Save
d
you!
’
De
n
shoute
d
an
d
h
e
grabbe
d
m
y
shoulders.
But
he
didn
’
t
save
me.

M
y
whol
e
bod
y
tingle
d
an
d
I
grabbe
d
a
t
Den
.
Sucke
d
in
a
breath
.
Grabbe
d
a
t
hi
s
shir
t
an
d
hel
d
on
.
M
y
fee
t
wouldn
’
t
mov
e
an
d
I
coul
d
fee
l
mysel
f
losin
g
balance
.
Fo
r
a
moment, i
t
fel
t
lik
e
De
n
wa
s
goin
g
t
o
hol
d
m
e
the
n
h
e
too
k
another gri
p
o
n
m
y
shir
t
an
d
hi
s
foo
t
scrape
d
ove
r
th
e
rock
.
W
e
fell.
I
hear
d
Ker
r
y
an
d
Graci
e
squeal
.
W
e
fel
l
ove
r
tha
t
ledge.
Plunge
d
throug
h
th
e
mis
t
the
n
slamme
d
int
o
th
e
roc
k
face whe
n
th
e
rop
e
tie
d
t
o
Den
’
s
harnes
s
caught
.
Th
e
ai
r
was force
d
fro
m
m
y
lung
s
i
n
a
grun
t
s
o
I
couldn
’
t
scream
.
W
e
bounce
d
an
d
spa
n
i
n
th
e
ai
r
befor
e
smashin
g
int
o
th
e
rock
again
.
Wit
h
m
e
hangin
g
o
n
t
o
hi
s
shirt
,
De
n
flippe
d
upside down
.
Hi
s
shir
t
ripped
.
I
coul
d
fee
l
i
t
going
.
H
e
shouted
‘no
’
an
d
‘gra
b
th
e
rope
’
an
d
‘giv
e
m
e
you
r
hand’
.
He hooke
d
hi
s
leg
s
i
n
th
e
rop
e
lik
e
a
trapez
e
artist.

Bar
r
y
scrabbled
for
the
rope
at
the
ledge
and
frothed
at the
mouth.
I
punched
uselessly
at
the
rope
with my
stump. Rip.
Den
let go
of my
shirt
with
one
hand
and
grabbed
for my
arm.
He
hooked
onto
my
wrist.
His
T
-shirt
had
slid
halfway
up
his
back
but
it
had
stopped
ripping.
W
e
were swinging
like
a
demolition
ball,
just
grazing
against
the rock
face. My
feet
kicked
at
the
rock
but
could
get
no purchase.

‘Hang
on!
Jesus.
Hang
on,’
Bar
r
y
shouted.

M
y
finger
s
wer
e
locke
d
ont
o
Den
’
s
top
.
H
e
ha
d
hol
d
of tha
t
wris
t
an
d
hi
s
othe
r
han
d
hel
d
th
e
shoulde
r
o
f
m
y
shirt.
I
wasn
’
t
goin
g
anywhere
.
Ker
r
y
an
d
Graci
e
wer
e
o
n
the rop
e
no
w
too
.
I
coul
d
hea
r
thei
r
littl
e
grunt
s
an
d
whimpers, reelin
g
u
s
i
n
lik
e
th
e
bigges
t
marlin
.
De
n
wa
s
pantin
g
i
n
my
ea
r
an
d
dribbling
.
The
y
lifte
d
u
s
tw
o
inche
s
the
n
w
e
slipped
bac
k
agai
n
a
s
the
y
too
k
anothe
r
grip
.
M
y
shir
t
pulle
d
over m
y
hea
d
an
d
De
n
gasped
.
I
coul
d
fee
l
hi
s
gri
p
o
n
m
y
wrist slipping
.
I
couldn
’
t
se
e
a
thing
.
M
y
leg
s
wer
e
goin
g
fr
a
ntic
i
n
th
e
ai
r
an
d
the
n
the
y
connecte
d
wit
h
somethin
g
solid
.
A
tin
y
ledge
.
M
y
toe
s
curle
d
an
d
I
shrugge
d
mysel
f
fo
r
ward. M
y
foo
t
sli
d
int
o
th
e
smalles
t
crevic
e
an
d
i
t
too
k
m
y
weight.
I
slippe
d
m
y
othe
r
foo
t
i
n
besid
e
it.

‘Jesus,’
Den
said
and
took
another
grip
on
my
wrist.

‘
Y
ou
all
right
down
there?’

The
biggest
adrenaline
rush
I’d
had
in
my
whole
life was
pumping
through
me.
I
didn
’
t
feel
safe
but
I
didn
’
t
feel
like
I
was
going
to
fall.
‘
Y
eah.
Now
what?’

‘Get
another
rope!’
he
shouted.

The
rope
went
tight
again.
Den
almost
pulled
me
off my
ledge.

‘No!
Don
’
t
pull.
Get
another
rope!’
he
shouted
again. Gracie
squealed
something
I
couldn
’
t
understand.

‘Here. I’ve
got
a
rope,’
Bar
r
y
panted.
‘What
do
you
want
me
to
do
with
it?’

‘Tie
it
off
on
the
tree.
Tie
a
loop
in
it
big
enough
for
W
ayne
’
s
bum.
Quick!’

Bar
r
y
did
what
Den
said
and
cast
the
rope
over
the edge.
It
clattered
against
my
leg
and
I
stabbed
at
it
blindly with
my
stump.
I
hooked
it
and
shook
it
to
the
crook
of
my
elbo
w
.
What
I
would
have
given
for
five
extra
fingers
and
a
hand
to
hold
that
rope .
.
.

‘
Y
ou’re
going
to
have
to
climb
into
the
loop.
Can
you see
it?’
Den
asked.

‘I
can
’
t
see
a
friggin’
thing.’

‘It
’
s
just
under
your
feet.
Y
our
left
foot.
No,
your
right.
Feel
around.’

I
lifted
my
foot
tentatively
and
poked
around
below
the ledge.
I
felt
the
rope
squirm
between
my
runner
and
the
rock.

‘My
foot
’
s
in,’
I
said.

‘Pull
it
up
a
bit,
Dad!’
Den
shouted,
and
the
rope
lifted
to
my
knee.

‘Stop!’
I
yelled
and
lifted
my
other
foot
into
the
loop.

‘
T
ake
it
up
a
bit.’

The
rope
dragged
over
my
legs
and
I
sat
into
it
before it
pulled
over
my
arse.
I
wriggled
and
positioned
the
rope
with
my
stump.

‘Right.
He
’
s
in,’
Den
shouted.
‘
T
ake
him
up.’

The
rope
pulled
tight
and
I
started
going
up.
My
feet lifted
off
the
ledge
and
tingled.
My
knees
grazed
over
the rock.
Bar
r
y
and
Gracie
and
Kez
dragged
me
up
the
rock face
until
my
head
popped
into
my
shirt
and
I
could
see again.

‘
Y
ou’re
going
to
have
to
let
go
of
me,’
Den
said.
I
was dragging
him
up
with
me,
by
the
shirt.

I
couldn
’
t
do
it.
My
hand
wouldn
’
t
open.

‘
W
ayne,
let
go!
Grab
the
rope.’ My
hand
wouldn
’
t
work.

Den
let
go
of
my
wrist
and
slapped
at
my
hand.
‘Let
go.’ My
fingers
uncurled
and
he
pushed
my
hand
towards
the
rope. I
grabbed
it
and
watched
my
knuckles
go
white.
They
lifted
me
to
the
ledge
in
one
smooth
motion
and
my thighs
bit
into the
rock
as
I
scraped
back
onto
the
flat
ground.

And
then
I
kissed
the
earth
like
it
was
a
woman,
feeling the
moist
dirt
mash
onto
my
face.
Breathing
sharp
little
breaths
like
the
dying
dog
on
Garrison
Street.
I
shook
all ove
r
.

‘Are
you
all
right,
W
ayne?’
Gracie
asked.

What
a
fucking
stupid
question.
I
nodded.
I
was
oka
y
. I’d left some
skin
on
the
rock
but there
wasn
’
t
much blood.

Gracie
joined
Baz
and
Ker
r
y
on
Den
’
s
rope
and
pulled him
up
with
ease.
He
stepped
onto
the
ledge
like
he’d been
for
a
walk
down
the
mountain
then
fell
to
his
knees and
sighed
loudly
again
and
again.