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Dawn arrived early. It wasn't cold, but misty rain clung to the forest around Stapleford Hut. Ray glanced at the nearby hills and decided to leave his departure until the weather improved. His destination was another hut five hours away over a saddle, through a narrow valley and up to the top end of the forest where tussock took over. From there he would take linear studies at five hundred metre drops in altitude to see how several noxious plants had spread since a similar study had been taken five years earlier. Preliminary research had shown that the unwanted plants had made significant gains at the lower levels but at these higher altitudes the native secondary growth managed to outgrow the exotic intruders.
Ray washed his small bundle of dirty laundry, cleaned out the stove firebox and set it up ready for instant lighting by the next visitor. He grinned. It would probably be himself in about ten days on his way back. He swept the hut out and walked outside to study the conditions again. The rain had stopped but grey clouds still clung to the high ridges. It was almost eleven so he either had to start soon or wait another day.
"Shall we go, Pattie?" he asked his dog, "or would you like another lazy day?"
Pattie wagged her tail and looked up at Ray. Her tail beat and she trotted along the path a few metres, stopped and barked.
"Okay," Ray said with a laugh. "We'll go. I need to finish packing though. Won't be long."
Three hours later, he regretted his decision. The clouds had dropped and the pair found themselves walking through dense fog. The so-called track was overgrown and it was only the shiny pieces of metal nailed to trees at regular intervals that showed the way. Several of these had become obscured by undergrowth or lost over the years and, on one occasion, it was only with Pattie's help that Ray found his way back to his last marker to discover he'd gone the wrong way.
They stopped mid-afternoon and had a cold meal of sandwiches or dog food, depending on their tastes, and continued their journey.
An hour later, Pattie stopped and barked.
"What is it, girl?" Ray asked.
Pattie's ears were on full alert and she stared skyward.
Ray heard the object of his dog's attention. High above them an aircraft engine spluttered, roared to life and died. Ray grimaced and strained to hear more. Something was there, the sort of whistling sound of an object moving.
"Hush, girl," Ray said when Pattie gave a yelp and turned her head.
Ray also turned and gasped. An aeroplane appeared out of the clouds across from them. It was in trouble, too. No engine roared, but the whistling air was accompanied by the twang of metal hitting something.
As he watched, spellbound, the aircraft glided on and disappeared into another cloudbank. For several seconds Ray heard nothing. He waited but still jumped in fright when an almighty crash thundered through the trees.
"Come on, Pattie," he said. "Find it, girl. If anyone survives that they'll need our help."
Pattie barked in reply and headed off the track down a steep slope to the stream two hundred metres below. They were halfway down when the aircraft exploded and a fireball filled the valley ahead.
"We're too late, girl," Ray whispered. "Nobody could survive that."
Pattie, though, disappeared through the undergrowth.
"Pattie!" Ray yelled. "Wait for me." He had never seen his pet so determined.
*
"BREE!" SCREAMED A VOICE a million miles away. "Bree! Wake up! It's me, Jenny. My God, please wake up."
Bree opened her eyes and gasped for breath as a cold hand touched her face. She spluttered, managed to clear her throat and looked at Jenny. The young woman's face was all eyes, hair and blood. Further inspection showed the blood was pouring from a gash across Jenny 's forehead.
"Oh, Bree," Jenny cried. "You're okay?"
"I guess," Bree replied and attempted to sit up. She realized her legs were in water and there was nothing beside her. The wing and fuselage were gone. Crunched up metal was pushed back almost to her chest and pieces of glue-type glass particles were everywhere.
But the plane had stopped moving and the only noise that accompanied Jenny's voice was a gurgling stream. Everything stunk of aviation fuel. It would take only a spark!
Bree slammed her hand against her seatbelt control and almost fell into the water as the device released. "We have to get away," she shouted. "The plane might blow up."
How they did it, she couldn't remember, but she and Jenny managed to drag themselves upstream from the Cessna. The foliage on both banks was too dense to even consider going ashore. The knee-deep water swirled around and splashed Bree's thighs, the coldness helping to restore normality to her numbed mind. A horrible thought made her shudder. "The pilot," she cried. "Where's the pilot?"
"He saved us, Bree," Jenny panted. "There was this massive rock that he steered into...." Her chin trembled. "The whole of his side of the aeroplane just crunched up like a flattened soda can. He never had a chance."
"He's dead?"
Jenny nodded. "I thought you were, too. I ended up in the stream and saw Vince first." She shuddered. "You don't want to look. It's not him any more."
They stumbled on, holding to each other for support in the current.
"There's a gravel ledge ahead," Bree gasped when they arrived at a bend. "Make for it."
As they did so, the Cessna exploded with a thunder-like crack. A fireball of gasoline filled the area they'd just evacuated, shooting debris and putrid black smoke into the air. A scorching wind flung the two women into the water. By the time Bree crawled to the surface, the fireball had gone, and smoke poured skyward in billowing clouds.
Bree turned to find she was still gripping Jenny's arm. "Thanks," she whispered. "If it wasn't for you, I would have been in the middle of that."
Jenny nodded. "Makes us about even, doesn't it?" she replied in a solemn voice.
"Suppose it does," Bree said, and then managed a shaky smile. "My God, what a couple of drenched rats we are."
"But alive rats," Jenny replied. She staggered forward to the gravel ledge, sat down, and wrapped her arms about her knees. She stared around with uncertainty in her eyes. "What now?"
"We stay here," Bree replied. "Vince gave our position. I'm sure there will be a search made."
"In this mist and rain?"
"Okay," Bree admitted. "We could be here the night." She shivered. "It's cold. We must be quite high above sea level."
Now that they were out of immediate danger her thoughts turned to her aching ribs. She probed her side, then gasped when her fingers pushed on a tender spot.
"We'll need to get up the bank," Jenny said. "It's thick with willows, but there are larger trees further in. There should be space beneath them." She stood up and placed an arm around Bree's shoulders. "You're shivering and look as white as a ghost."
"Aftershock," Bree whispered. "I'll be okay."
She wasn't though. Her head felt light, and Jenny's concerned face went out of focus. She gritted her teeth and concentrated on moving up the small bank. Sharp grass cut into her arms and the willows were so close together she could barely squeeze between them.
Jenny held branches back and helped her up a slippery section.
"Thanks." Bree squinted her eyes in pain, and then sank to her knees. Crawling, she made better progress and soon she and Jenny were through the band of willows. Ahead, tall trees towered above fern, grass, creeper and long, black vines. Everything dripped water but it didn't matter. She and Jenny were saturated anyhow.
"The vegetation is different than at home," Jenny panted as she flattened a clump of fern with a foot.
"I read that they have no dangerous native animals or snakes," Bree replied. She held her stomach and tried to keep her head clear. It felt as though the blood had stopped flowing.
For several more moments, they continued climbing until the undergrowth cleared and they found themselves under a canopy of gigantic trees. Apart from occasional drips they were also out of the rain.
"This'll do," Jenny said. "I'd hate to get lost in here." She guided Bree in beside tree roots thicker than her arm and knelt beside her. "Now, let's look at your wound."
*
"I FOUND SOMETHING TO help," Jenny said. She walked around the tree where Bree lay clutching her stomach. "How is it?"
"Stopped bleeding, I think." Bree's smile turned to a grimace when she attempted to manipulate her body.
"Everything's gone," Jenny said. "Even my bum bag that had my passport and money."
Bree sighed. "I've lost my things, too, but documents can be replaced. I have a copy of everything stored on my website."
"Good thinking," Jenny said and turned her attention back to their more immediate concerns. She held up a piece of blue material. "There are bits of metal strewn everywhere. This old shirt is the only thing of any use I could find." She shrugged. "It's wet but I thought if you pressed it against your wound it might help." She plunked herself down and wiped a hand across her brow. "Stupid idea, wasn't it?'
"No, it'll be a great help," Bree replied. "Thanks."
"I reckon we're here for the night," Jenny said. "The rain's heavier. The explosion blew itself out so there's not even smoke now. An aeroplane could fly thirty feet above us and not see a thing..."
"I know but it's quite dry here and not too cold. Someone will be here in the morning."
"Yeah," Jenny replied. Her voice sounded pessimistic. "God, I'm hungry," she added as an afterthought.
*