There wasn’t much in the office. A small folding table, a narrow camp bed and a mosquito net dangling from a canvas loop in the ceiling. The single plastic window was sealed shut and, with the entrance flaps closed, the tent was stuffy and hot.
The two teens pulled fruitlessly against the ties, and then Rocky managed to rock his chair around so Devin could see his hands.
‘The only thing that’ll break those is a knife,’ she said.
Rocky yanked his hands again and felt a searing pain. His heart was racing and the heat was oppressive. He had to get out.
‘When that mind-reading dude comes in, we’re toast. Along with Eva and Jahmin. They’re never going to let us go, we’ll never go home again. Never.’
He was going to die. He pictured Jahmin’s pale face, and it hit him hard just how much Jahmin had lost when he’d lost his life.
I should have been cooler with it, he thought. What would it have cost him to support his friend? Nothing. And for that matter, what would it have cost him to occasionally let Eva win a stupid argument? Everything they’d ever fought about was so trivial, such a waste of time. Wanting to win and expecting to be right all the time had become such a bad habit.
He yanked his hands again, welcoming the pain in his wrists, knowing he deserved it.
‘Don’t,’ said Devin. ‘You’re bleeding.’
Rocky kept tugging and straining. Warm blood trickled down his hand and plopped onto the ground.
‘There’ll be another way. We just need to figure it out.’
With a groan, Rocky gave up and flexed his fingers. His fingertips throbbed. Unlike the pain in his wrists, the throbbing didn’t hurt. It was just … interesting.
‘Do you think they’ve found the sinkhole yet?’
Her tone was casual, and he could tell she was trying to lighten his mood, to keep him calm and focused. For her sake, he made an effort to concentrate on what she was saying.
‘I don’t know. Prob’ly. We weren’t that far away when they found us.’
‘They’ll find Awhina’s body. They’ll think we did it.’
‘I hope so,’ said Rocky. Cold was flooding his veins. It felt weird. It felt good. ‘Might make them think twice about hurting us.’
He sucked in the hot, stale air, and felt it turn icy as it hit his lungs. He exhaled with a sigh, and his breath became a gentle morning mist over a placid, green lake. A small waka with pāua eyes was nearing the shore, twin paddles dipping in unison, leaving a gentle wake of ripples behind …
His eyes snapped open. Where had that come from?
‘Are you okay?’ Devin asked anxiously.
‘I saw something.’
‘Was it mind reading?’
‘No.’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ she muttered, and then, ‘Oh, wow.’
‘What?’
‘The bleeding’s stopped. Your skin – it’s sticking back together.’
His hands were tingling, as though he’d dipped them into a fresh mountain spring.
‘Most of us got stuck with hallucinations and headaches, but you got … boosted. You, Jahmin, Moses. You’re different.’
‘What do you hallucinate?’ he asked. She’d never mentioned it before.
‘Just crazy stuff. Nothing really.’ She cleared her throat.
Rocky yanked at the ties again. The plastic bit into his skin. It didn’t hurt, but the blood started dripping again, making his wrists slick. If he could just tuck a thumb in and twist–
‘Don’t,’ Devin warned, her eyes fixed on his hands. ‘You might cut an artery or something.’
Rocky didn’t answer. Tugging hard, he felt his skin split on one hand. It caught on the plastic tie and peeled back like an orange.
‘Don’t!’ Devin cried, but Rocky couldn’t stop tugging, and he finally managed to slide it out. He looked at it and gagged. The skin was swinging at his fingertips like an empty rubber glove, and there was blood everywhere.
Devin’s eyes were squeezed shut, tears leaking from her lids, her breath whooshing noisily in and out.
‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t hurt.’ He yanked at the flapping skin and threw it on the ground. It landed with a splat.
The rushing feeling was all consuming now as new skin grew, encasing his arteries, nerves and tendons. The scar he’d got trying to open a can of condensed milk with a butcher’s knife when he was ten and always hungry had vanished, but his fingerprints were still there, whorled and creased the same as always.
He flexed his wrist as if twirling an invisible poi. ‘Amazing.’
Devin opened an eye. ‘So much blood,’ she whispered. ‘And what’s …?’ Her mouth twisted in disgust as she saw the empty casing of the hand that had once held hers, ‘Oh, gross.’
‘I know, but look! I’m free!’ He waved his hands at her.
‘Okay, so now what?’
Rocky opened his mouth and then shut it again. There was nothing in the tent that he could use to cut the other ties. His legs were still tied to the chair legs. He could flip his chair over and try to crawl like a turtle across the room, but that was about it. He let out a bark of laughter. He couldn’t help it. He bellowed.
He only stopped laughing when the tent flaps opened and Griff and Moses walked in.
