Lost In Kakadu (35 page)

Removing a couple more cans from the shelf, he read the labels as he went. “Aah, canned tomatoes.”

“Do you think we can eat them?”

He shrugged. “We’ll see how the contents look first and if it smells okay, I don’t see why not. But let’s find you somewhere to rest first.”

She made a weak smile and he knew that she was in two minds. She was so stubborn, but that was one of the reasons he loved her so much. He took her hand and led her from the kitchen. A blackboard at the back of the room caught his eye. It still displayed chalk writing. They stood before it hand in hand and read the shabby scrawl silently.

Last bus leaves at 2.30 sharp on Thursday, anyone not on it will have to walk back. Last drinks will be from 10. Anyone too pissed will be made to walk. That includes you, Robbo.

Mackenzie huffed. “They had a sense of humour at least.”

“That’s a relief. I was beginning to wonder if we’d find a mass grave somewhere with a lone skeleton holding a shovel lying beside it.”

Mackenzie laughed. “You’ve got a good imagination.”

“What? You’ve only just realised that?”

The next building on the right hand side was set apart from the others. Unlike the first two it was a double story with an extensive veranda spanning the length of the front. Mackenzie stepped up the three short stairs and could imagine a horse being tied up to the railing as he walked toward the entrance. He pushed through the swinging doors and then held them open for Abi.

He reached out his hand and led her into the room. “Come on, baby. I’m sure we’ll find somewhere to rest in here.”

She sighed and stepped toward him as if every movement was agony.

The setting was straight out of a scene from a country and western movie. Round table tops were secured to large wooden barrels and dozens of empty bottles and glasses cluttered most of them. Rickety wooden chairs with wicker lattice were scattered about as if their last use had been in a bar fight. A mirror and rows of glass shelving decorated the back of the bar and a carved sign hung over the counter. It read: ‘Koongarra Pub—a little gem in a slice of hell.’

“I think it’s officially true,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“To be called a town in this country, all you need is a pub.”

At the back of the room, a narrow set of stairs curled around a corner and disappeared.

Mackenzie walked to them. “I wonder what’s upstairs.” He waggled his eyebrows.

The first door at the top of the stairs revealed a bathroom. It had a red ringed bath with a plastic curtain dangling by just two hooks, a tiny basin and a toilet.

Abi pointed at the toilet. “You don’t suppose that still works, do you?”

“Try it.”

She pulled on the dangling chain and the pipes clunked as rust coloured water flowed into the bowl.

“Ha, it does.” She grinned.

“I bet the other room’s a bedroom.” Mackenzie indicated for Abi to go first.

She side stepped to the other doorway and pushed it open. Cherry red papered walls were a dramatic contrast to the white lace curtain surrounding the double bed. Cobwebs secured an idle ceiling fan in place.

Abi pulled the lace curtain aside and sat on the bed. “This room’s been sealed up for a long time and yet there’s no dust. It’s like opening a vault.” She flopped back. “It’s wonderful.”

Mackenzie lay down beside her, melted into the soft mattress and closed his eyes. “A real bed. Damn this feels good.”

Abi groaned and he rolled toward her. His throat constricted when he looked into her green eyes. They were so tired and yet a determined fire still burnt beneath.

He cupped his hand on her neck, threading his fingers through her long hair. He leant forward and kissed her, a short tender kiss, reassuring her they were going to be okay. “How’re you feeling?”

“You mean besides tired, hungry and every muscle aching?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh well, then I’m good.”

“Excellent. This is where you’re staying while I make—”

“I’ll come and help.” She went to sit up.

“No, Abi.” He held her back. “You need to rest. For you and our baby.”

He watched her give in. Her shoulders softened and her jaw relaxed. Mackenzie stood up and lifted her feet onto the bed. She rolled to her side, pulled her knees up to her belly and wriggled up so her head was on the pillow. She sighed and Mackenzie could only just imagine the relief she was feeling right now. He leant over and kissed her. “You can sleep if you want to. When you wake up, I’ll have some food ready.”

“Wake me, please. I’m really hungry.”

“Okay, sweetheart.” He kissed her again. “I’ll be back soon.”

By the time he left the room, her breathing had already become deep and steady and he knew she’d be asleep in a matter of minutes.

Mackenzie crossed the dirt road and explored the four remaining buildings. They were dormitory style living quarters. Some of the wardrobes still contained clothes and reaching for a navy blue shirt he read the embroidery over the right breast: Koongarra Gold Mine. He quickly tore off his sweat soaked clothing and shrugged the new shirt on, then rummaged in the cupboard for a bigger shirt for Abi.

Mackenzie noticed a newspaper under one of the beds and reached for it. It was dated 16
^th
September 2000. He wondered what the date was now. They’d long ago stopped counting the days since the crash. It was eight months before they left the plane and it had been at least another six or seven months based on Abi’s belly. But he couldn’t even guess how many days, or even months they’d been travelling in total.

He scanned the room, frowning at just how much equipment was still there.

Why didn’t they come back for all this stuff?

* * *

In the ensuing couple of days, despite enjoying their new comfortable surroundings, Mackenzie realised there was still no end in sight. He had a bizarre feeling about their new situation, like he was trapped in a halfway house. Half way to civilisation and half way from the brutal jungle they’d left behind. They would need to start moving again soon, but seeing how much Abi enjoyed the security of the buildings and the comfortable bed made the decision even harder.

The windmill provided an abundance of water and he boiled away any impurities. To his delight the tins of food were perfect to eat and Mackenzie whipped up some delicious meals. The dingo showed itself on a few occasions; however it seemed unperturbed by their presence and kept out of their way.

On the fourth day in the ghost town, they sat on the pub veranda watching the sun set when Abi turned to Mackenzie with a serious look in her eyes.

“I think we need to get going soon.” Her voice was tainted with awe and fear.

“What’s wrong?”

“Give me your hand.” She reached for him.

Placing his hand on the side of her swollen stomach, he felt a hard lump and fear gripped him. “What is it?”

Abi smiled, knowing. “It’s our baby’s foot.”

Tears sprang to his eyes. “Oh, wow.”

She unbuttoned the miner’s shirt and the outline of the baby’s tiny foot was visible beneath her stretched skin.

“This’s amazing.” Mackenzie touched the heel of the foot and it moved. Laughing, he gently prodded again. “Does it hurt?”

“Not at the moment, but it does sometimes.”

“How much longer do you think we have?”

She shrugged. “It’s hard to tell, but given my size, I’m guessing about a week or two.”

He reached for her hand and as the sun blazed into the red dirt in the distance a tight knot turned in his stomach. It was obvious no one had been in the town for over a decade and it made no sense to stay and wait for a rescue.

Mackenzie nodded with conviction. “We’ll leave tomorrow.”

He squeezed Abi’s hand as the blackness of night consumed them.

* * *

Mackenzie insisted they abandon most of their equipment, choosing to take just one backpack with water, food and a few other essential items and they set off before dawn.

He felt like this was their sprint to the finish line. They started with a spring in their step, hand in hand joking about the first thing they’d do once they were rescued.

“Have a cold beer,” said Mackenzie.

“Eat a whole box of chocolates.” Abi laughed.

But the end of the road didn’t materialise. The sun beat down with relentless force and Mackenzie mixed the red dirt with a ration of water to make a thick paste that he applied as sunscreen. Their hopes were crushed over every hill and their endurance diminished with every incline.

The midday air remained still and stifling and the nights were humid and sticky. They lay in the dirt beside the road each night, flicking off ants and swatting sand flies. After two days and two nights of relentless walking, Mackenzie trembled with frustration as he removed the final bottle of water from the backpack.
How much longer?
Once again, they were trapped and had no choice but to carry on into the unknown. Turning back was at least a two day walk and they wouldn’t make it without water.

Abi’s face was gaunt and her usual determined look was replaced with one of despair. He felt like he’d failed her. But he couldn’t bear losing her or the baby and knew he wouldn’t continue without them. He would rather die here beside her than carry on. She gulped at the water with cracked lips and it took all his willpower to tuck the bottle away without taking a drink himself. Each step on the slippery red dirt was like walking through quicksand, drawing them into the unknown.

That night they collapsed into a heap on the hot ground and Mackenzie allowed himself a small mouthful of water. His lip split open and he tasted blood. They now had no food and only a third of a bottle of water left. Tomorrow would be their last day. He knew it. How the day ended was in the hands of God. As he stared up at the millions of stars, a falling star suddenly dazzled the sky. He reached for Abi’s hand and she squeezed it in a silent gesture of reassurance.

I love you
. He tried to speak, but his throat was so dry nothing came out. He wanted to roll to her, to wrap his arms around her. But he literally couldn’t move. Instead he just lay there until sheer exhaustion tipped him into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Abi couldn’t walk. Her legs finally failed her. Mackenzie gathered her in his arms. Tears streamed down his face as he followed the red road that stretched before him like a hideous joke. The sun was painful and the ground shimmered as black crows cawed in time to his wobbly steps. When he could walk no more, he placed Abi down and collapsed beside her.

He woke at dusk, when the sun was a red slash on the western horizon. He crawled to Abi. His throat constricted as he touched her cheek. She didn’t respond.

“Abi!” He rested his head on her chest and was relieved to hear her steady heartbeat.

A fire burning within him made him get to his feet. He picked her up and strode along the road with angry determination. The blackness of night smothered him. He clenched his teeth against the excruciating pain in his back until his jaw ached. A light appeared in the gloom, like a distant firefly. He stared at it, willing it to be a rescue party. The light flickered, then steadily intensified and his heart raced.

Are my eyes playing tricks on me?

He stood still, not wanting to blink and then the one light became two. His breath caught in his throat. A car! “Abi, we’re saved,” he wanted to say, but nothing came out. He felt something trickle down his chin—sweat or blood from his split lips, he wasn’t sure which. The car lights disappeared for a moment and then re-appeared bigger, closer. He couldn’t move. His feet were frozen, knees locked in place.

Like an act in a magic show, the car suddenly appeared and he was shrouded in a cloud of red dust. Delirious, he heard voices, but couldn’t understand them. Rough hands relieved him of Abi’s swollen body and then black faces with white eyes guided him into the car. He wanted to thank them, but the words wouldn’t escape from his throat.

He crawled into the back seat, clutched Abi’s hand and lapsed into unconsciousness.

Krystal woke to ragged snoring from the girl in the bed above her and no matter how hard she tried to block it out, she couldn’t. A cold breeze whistled outside, rattling the wooden louvers and she pulled the stiff sheet over her shoulders attempting to keep warm. She lay awake wishing for the comfort of her own room until the morning bell rang through the halls.

The noise in the dining hall was a cacophony of high pitched voices and Krystal longed for a moment of peace. She quickly ate her breakfast and then asked to use the bathroom. It frustrated her that she even had to ask. In the closed stall, she sat on the toilet lid, placed her head in her hands and willed the buzzing in her ears to go away. It didn’t. After a while she removed the top from her pen and marked another notch on the bathroom wall. Only 322 days until her 18
^th
birthday, then she could walk out of this hell hole as a free woman.

The bathroom door banged open and she sat upright.

“Krystal, are you in here?” bellowed the deep voice of Miss Anders.

“Yes, Miss.”

“The principal wants to see you.”

Krystal flushed the toilet, pushed the pen into her underpants and exited the cubical. As she walked along the dark hallway ahead of Miss Anders she gnawed at her fingernails wondering what she was in trouble for.

She knocked on the door and gritted her teeth as she entered, determined to fight whatever accusations she was now facing.

Two police officers crowded the room and she instantly recognised them.

“What’s going on?” Her heart raced as she realised the only reason they’d be here was because the bodies of her mum and dad had finally been found. The room swayed ever so slightly as panic rose within her.

“Take a seat, my love,” the principal said with a rare display of kindness. “These detectives have something quite incredible to tell you.”

Krystal slumped onto the cold wooden chair and stared into the eyes of the woman who once told her they’d given up searching for her parents.

“Hi Krystal, do you remember me? I’m Detective Powder.”