it off and on again and I’ll tell you where to put it, tech-head.’ She tossed him the phone. ‘Here. You play with the on and off buttons, then make your way back to the cave at your leisure. I’m off to try a less tech-heavy form of communication.’
‘Mary...’
She’d started to turn away but she stopped and looked back at him. ‘Yes?’
‘Thank you,’ he said simply, and they were a mere two words but all the power in the universe was behind them. He looked at her, just looked. Their gazes held for a long, long moment, and in the end it seemed to tear something when she had to turn away.
‘My pleasure,’ she managed, but as she headed back to the cave she felt those stupid tears slipping down her face again.
What was wrong with her? Smash ’em Mary was turning into a wuss.
There was a part of Smash ’em Mary that didn’t even want the helicopter to come.
* * *
Only the helicopter did come. The fire took hold and she covered it with green leaves. Smoke billowed upwards, the chopper changed course and headed toward them.
Ben had made his way back by then, limping heavily, using his sticks for support. She should have moved slowly, staying to help him, but rescue had seemed more important.
Of course it was.
They stood in silence as the chopper approached. There seemed little to say, or maybe there was lots to say but neither of them could think what.
There was no way the chopper could land. The island was hilly, and the beach, normally a possible landing place, was a mess. The chopper came in low, assessing the situation, and then someone came down a rope.
A guy, Ben noted. Neither was it the chopper that had taken Jake away. Why not? His stomach clenched, thinking of the chopper in that wild weather. Surely if it had survived...
‘That’s called catastrophising,’ Mary said. ‘Stop it.’
‘How did you know...?’
‘Your face is like an open book. Just because this isn’t the chopper that took Jake, it doesn’t mean Jake’s at the bottom of the sea. I know you think New Zealand’s tiny compared to the US, but we do run to more than one helicopter.’
He managed a smile and then the guy on the rope landed near them, and she headed forward to help.
Ben stayed where he was. He’d pushed too hard. His leg seemed like it was at the end of its useful life. He’d never felt so useless.
Jake...
‘Take Ben first,’ Mary was saying.
He roused himself and thought, What?
‘She tells me you’re injured, sir,’ the paramedic said. ‘Do we need to splint your leg before we move you? Any other injuries?’
‘I don’t think he wants to be stretchered up,’ Mary said, and she was smiling.
He wasn’t smiling.
‘My brother...’ he said, and the paramedic’s face grew grim.
‘You’re one of the race crew?’
‘Yes.’
‘We’re very pleased to see you,’ he said. ‘There are still crew members missing.’ He turned to Mary, obviously forming a question, but she answered before he could ask.
‘I’ve searched the beach and found no one.’
‘Could someone have made their way inland?’
‘If they were capable of getting inland they’d have found the remains of the hut. It’s the obvious high point.’
‘It’s probably worth sending a team over to look more thoroughly,’ the guy said, ‘if this one’s washed up.
This one. This victim.
Ben was going out of his mind.
‘Do you know if my brother’s safe?’ he demanded. ‘Jake Logan. He was pulled up on a chopper before the cyclone hit.’
‘That’ll have been a New Zealand crew,’ the guy told him. ‘We’re Australian. I don’t know who they did and didn’t pull off.’
‘The choppers are all safe?’
‘I don’t know that either,’ he said apologetically. ‘This is our first run. Please, our time’s short.’
He didn’t need to say more. Others were missing. He had to get back in the air.
‘Put the harness on,’ Mary said, and something inside him snapped.
‘No,’ he said. ‘You go first and that’s an order. I’ll grab your manuscript and follow.’
‘It’s not important.’
‘It is. Go!’
‘Blimey,’ the guy said, obviously astounded at the vehemence behind his words. ‘Women and children first? The island’s not sinking, mate.’
It wasn’t, but the memory of Jake was all around him. He didn’t know where Jake was. He wanted Mary safe.’
‘You go first and I’ll bring Heinz and the manuscript up with me,’ he told Mary, and Mary looked at him as if he was out of his mind.
‘You’re the one with the bang on his head and the gammy leg. You’re planning on holding my dog and my book while you air-swing? In your dreams, mister.’
The chopper guy sighed. ‘Quiet dog?’
‘He’s eaten so many dead fish this morning he won’t raise a wriggle,’ Mary told him. ‘But I wouldn’t squeeze him.’
The guy grinned. ‘Name?’
‘Heinz.’
‘I might have known. Okay, boys and girls, I’m taking the dog up while you sort the remaining order between you. No domestics while I’m away. Sheesh, the stuff we heroes have to put up with. Heinz, come with me while Mummy and Daddy sort out their rescue priorities.’
* * *
She went first, clutching the battered quilt. ‘Because Barbara will forgive me everything but losing this.’
He came after, with her manuscript. He’d spent time in choppers in Afghanistan. He didn’t like the memories.
He was hauled into the chopper and Mary was belted onto the bench. She was holding Heinz as if she needed him for comfort. She looked somehow... diminished?
Lost.
She’d come to the island to escape, he remembered. Now
