part0045

Every inch of her body was bruised or cut. Her joints throbbed, her head ached, her stomach rebelled. The blood that coated her had hardened into a parched riverbed and she picked at it absently like a scab.

She looked up into the cloudless sky and wondered for a moment whether the whole thing had been a drunken nightmare, and this was the hangover from hell. Her sleep had been fitful and fraught with terrors. She woke at one point to the sound of screaming, of men in the very depths of despair being slaughtered, unsure whether it was real or part of her dreams.

To her right Chakrit pissed against a tree, the urine striking the bark the only sound for miles around. He turned, zipping his fly and noticed her staring. She looked away hurriedly. He staggered towards her and sat. The wound on his chest looked nasty, from above one nipple to below the other. His legs were worse. The skin from one ankle had been stripped clean like peeled fruit, the muscle raw and tender.

‘Hey,’ said Ana, her voice pitiful and small. Her stomach rumbled, and she realised she hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours.

‘Hey,’ he said back, neither in the mood for small talk.

They had slept all night, after Chakrit had pulled Ana’s unconscious body from the lagoon. The last thing she remembered was the third waterfall. According to Chakrit, there were several more, the last of which fed into the lagoon. It burbled away behind them and now they sat, the sun hot on their faces, two broken people who have glimpsed Hell and lived to tell the tale. Rachel lay curled up in the shade, the only one of them who hadn’t slept a wink all night. It wasn’t just the pain in her belly. It was the voices, the whispering…

‘Those men…’ started Ana.

‘No worries anymore.’

Ana nodded. She got to her feet, her body wailing in protest, and looked out across the clear blue lagoon.

‘I think you’re right,’ she said.

Ana peeled off her bra and knickers and stepped into the refreshing water. She smelled like a mixture of rotting corpses and spider guts; not exactly a desirable aroma. The water came to below her breasts and she dipped her head under and kept it there, the water at first stinging and then soothing her aches. When she surfaced, Chakrit was just getting in. He too was naked. Ana lay back, only her face breaking the surface, and closed her eyes.

Rachel was curled up on the edge of the lagoon. When Ana was done, she went to her sister, helped her sit and washed away as much of the blood as possible. She cupped handfuls of water and poured it onto Rachel’s hair. She cleaned her face, then her breasts and belly. She noticed the brand on her flesh, an unintelligible squiggle that would scar her for life. Next to it was a small hole where it looked like she had been stabbed.

‘My god,’ gasped Ana. Her sister looked as pale as a corpse. Her lips were blue, her eyes milky. Ana knew Rachel was dying. If she could just get her back to the mainland in time, get her to a doctor…

‘Rach, can you walk?’

‘Mmm-hmm,’ she said, though it hurt her to do so.

A shadow fell over her. Ana turned to see Chakrit, stripped to his blood-soaked underwear. He held out his shorts and Ana took them.

‘For your sister,’ he said, walking away.

She helped Rachel slip them on and fastened the belt.

‘Where’s Paul,’ wheezed Rachel as Ana helped her to her feet.

‘At the boat, Rach. We’ll see him soon.’

Rachel scratched at her belly and looked Ana in the eyes for the last time. ‘Take me home. Please,’ she pleaded.