His resolve hadn’t wavered and neither had his sense of direction. Liam knew he was being led back to the waterfall. He understood why. That was where it had started. Going back to the place it had happened made the closing of a circle, for Eugene to finish what Liam had started when he’d looked Eugene in the eye and jumped. If their positions were exchanged, Liam would probably have done the same thing.
But then, Liam reminded himself, maybe it had started way before that, when Eugene had hurt Beth. Or when Eugene’s mum had taken off. Or when Eugene’s old man had begun to be a bit too free and easy with his fists.
Liam stumbled, put out a hand on a tree trunk to steady himself. His heartbeat was so loud he could hardly hear his own thoughts. How did he know that stuff about Eugene? He didn’t know shit about him or his family. He just knew him as the mean loudmouth who picked on kids who couldn’t fight back.
Eugene loved his mummy and she left.
She left him by himself.
Liam left him.
Liam resumed his loping run through the bush, his mind spinning with memories he wasn’t entitled to have, his nose bleeding.
He stumbled across an overgrown set of rutted wheel tracks and followed it through the trees. A cool breeze from the river caressed his neck. In the heat of the afternoon, nothing stirred in the bush, except for the insects. Swarms of midges, attracted by the smell of his sweat, stung his bare flesh with happy abandon.
Liam ignored them. He knew Eugene was here somewhere, watching. He could feel him. And with every step he took, he could hear that insistent whisper calling his name, a whisper that grew louder with every step.
The whisper became a roar, the crashing of the waterfall. Liam left the tracks and pushed his way through the trees to the edge of the gorge. He gazed with awe at hundreds of tonnes of water smashing down a steep cliff into a murky green pool. The pool fed the rapids beyond, and then the river, wider now, disappeared around a bend. And on the other side of the pool lay the remains of their bus, looking sad and forlorn and completely munted.
Liam scanned the trees surrounding the pool for any sign of movement, but the spray wafting up from the falls made it hard to see. He couldn’t hear shit either. He glanced down at the steep, slippery gorge walls and returned into the bush to make the descent instead. It was still hard going on the slope, and he slipped a few times, wildly grabbing out at the bushes and branches for balance.
He was glad Jahmin hadn’t come. Jahmin, with his pavement-accustomed feet, would have slipped and been smashed to smithereens on the rocks below. But Liam had a good head for heights and didn’t feel afraid. He didn’t think he had any emotion left in him at all. There was room for nothing else but getting to the bus. Finding Eugene. Finishing it.
Scratched and bleeding from the thick tangle of scrub he’d clawed his way through, he finally made it to the bottom. The roar of the falls was deafening. The churning green water was covered with white froth, like icing, and the air was veiled in a fine white mist. Liam took in the beauty of it all with one dispassionate glance and headed straight for the bus.
The whispering was even louder now. He could hear it above the sound of the water. Liam. Liam. Come closer.
Closer to what? Liam wondered as he picked his way over the rocks to the buckled wreckage. He remembered clinging to it with Jahmin as it shot down the river, and grimaced. How could they have survived? They shouldn’t have. It was ridiculous.
It lay on its side, the front part submerged in water, the roof facing him. He couldn’t see inside. He watched it warily, as though it were a great beast that had fallen but might get up again and charge.
Eventually he tried to scramble up the side, only to slither back again. He grabbed onto a jutting piece of metal for balance and it sliced into his palm. He cried out in pain, falling back into the water. He dunked his hand in, remembering too late his old man’s advice, that rivers might carry waterborne diseases but your piss was always sterile. Never mind, he’d do that later when he really had to go.
He yanked at a rip in his T-shirt, ripped a strip of fabric free and wrapped it tight around his wound.
A mocking voice sounded deep in the bush. ‘Ha haa.’
Liam stopped, head cocked.
‘Ha haa.’
‘Shut up!’ he shouted.
Liam. The whispering came from inside the bus.
Liam scanned the bush again and then looked at the bus, undecided.
A large green and red parrot, a kākā, flapped noisily up out of the trees and glided back down again, its harsh cry of ‘Ka kaa’ ringing out.
Liam clambered up on the bus again, this time watching where he put his hands. He crawled to the window at the rear, where Eugene had been trapped. It yawned open, the blackness within oozing a vapour of despair and death.
Liam.
He sucked in a couple of deep breaths of clean, mountain air and lowered his torso through the hole.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Everything was in disarray. Seats and straps and bags and bodies were tossed about as though they were in a topsy-turvy doll’s house. Dark shapes drifted ominously under the surface.
He’d last seen Eugene in the seats just behind the row below him. At first he couldn’t see anything. But then, underneath the seats, he made out a flash of blue.
Liam stretched as far in as he could without falling. From this angle he could see Eugene quite clearly. His skin was pale, his lips slightly parted, his eyes staring blankly. Eugene was dead.
Liam heaved a great sigh. The turmoil within him eased. The heavy hammering of his heart quietened.
He squirmed back up out of the window and sat up. The heat of the sun seeped into his skin. All around him and in him and through him was a soft white glow swallowing up the bush, the water, the rocks, the clouds, a light that was in him and through him, lifting him up and up …
Liam.
The whisper wasn’t Eugene. It was something else entirely.
Liam slumped forward onto the bus, his eyes wide, a trail of dried blood on his upper lip, his heartbeat slowing … and slowing … and …
Stop.