Joni, Day 27
The scream ripped through the jungle and the terror in it touched Joni inside. That sad, liquid part recognised the stiff mew of fear she’d heard in the cries of a thousand wounded animals.
She petted Des. His tiny warm body was like a string of rosary beads in her fingers as she stroked and worried at it. A tiny, hairy piece of safety. Of home.
Another scream, this one less surprised, but more afraid.
Why, why, why? Why the hell was she still in this jungle?
They had reached the semifinals. They could finally, legitimately, go home.
And yet, they were still here.
Joni wasn’t exactly sure how that had happened. There had been no celebration – at most, a barely audible sigh of relief – in the aftermath of the last Banishment.
And a thousand tonnes more baggage in their screwy family portmanteau.
Joni smelled jungle and her own salty fear. She reached out a hand to the nearest tree and leaned momentarily against its reassuring bulk. As her ears strained in the silence, she squinted at the tree.
Nauclea orientalis. The Leichhardt tree.
Named after some hapless German explorer, Lex had said. Some botanist who’d come to Australia with a dream, but turned out to be a very poor bushman. He’d died a mysterious death, his body having never been found.
Strangely appropriate, Joni thought, recalling the non-conversation she’d had with her sister after Banishment.
Frankie had smiled at her grimly.
‘So, we’re off the hook. We made the finals. We got G’s money.’
‘Yeah.’
Joni wasn’t sure what her expression had been.
But it was hard to believe it was all over.
She’d read once that prisoners released from long captivity sometimes preferred to stay in the area where they were held captive; could only feel comfortable in the state of deprivation they had come to know. Stockholm Syndrome?
Joni wondered why she didn’t have a greater feeling of victory, or even of relief. She summoned up mental images of all the things she hated about Endurance Island.
The heat. The food. The Stapler’s beautiful, vicious face.
Then she tried to run them, split-screen style, through her mind, alongside all the things she missed about home.
Her flat in Hackney. The off-licence down the street. Seven Sisters Road at peak hour: the smell of smog and jerk chicken.
She’d tried to think of something fitting to say.
Thanks? We did it? It’s been real?
But Frankie spoke first. Her beautiful grey eyes had been steely. Joni was reminded of Frankie as a little girl, always so resolute and confident, hands at her hips.
‘I’m staying.’
Joni should have been shocked, but nodded. She found herself wanting her sister to say she was staying so that they could work it out. ‘The money?’
Frankie returned her nod. ‘I keep thinking what I could do with even more money.’
‘The foundation?’
A third nod. ‘The inheritance will cover Edward’s embezzlement but with more … imagine who we could reach. The programs we could run. Prevention, even.’
And then, an unspoken question in her sister’s eyes.
And along with it, the merest trace of uncertainty.
It had been the uncertainty that had been Joni’s undoing.
And so here they were, at the bitter end. Together.
Joni owed Frankie. For the locket. And maybe for everything.
But she’d be damned if she were going to suffer the same fate as that hapless bastard Leichhardt in the process.
Joni holstered her weapon, and tried to peer through the thick trees ahead of her. Frankie had gone south, according to the little compass Joni had actually learned to use over the last two weeks. But the scream had definitely not been hers. It had been a man’s and its shrill edge had become all too familiar.
Joni would bet a thousand pink iced doughnuts it was Kazuki.
And, wherever he was, he was vulnerable.
Good. She was going to find the little fucker. And kill him.
Hey, it was all part of the game. And better that little snit get paintballed for the sake of the final challenge than it happen to her or Frankie. The scream was probably a ploy to draw them out. And there was no way Joni was going to hand either Kazuki or Takahiro the pleasure of killing her, or her sister. Even metaphorically.
Or of pocketing the double or nothing offer that, in a sick new twist, had emerged.
Two hundred thousand pounds!
More money for the foundation. And Frankie wanted it.
Joni pushed herself off the Leichhardt tree, and held one grubby hand to her lips. She used the hand and her pursed lips to emit a single loud, bright note. The distinctive call of the chaffinch had echoed around the garden in several of the homes she and Frankie had shared as children. Their father had taught them to mimic it, and they had agreed it would be their signal out here.
Inspired, Joni had thought, especially as the chaffinch’s nest was highly camouflaged and so difficult to locate. She and Frankie would need the stealth of birds to outwit the two seasoned game show veterans stalking them.
The answering call was a perfect chirrup that transported Joni home.
Then the scream sounded again; now, more of a moan. And Joni’s determination to find and exterminate the man who had been taunting them for weeks weakened.
He sounded as if he were in genuine pain.
The jungle was dark and solid: a wall of green-black through which every step was hard won. Joni and Frankie had split up about an hour before, agreeing on coordinates for meeting up, and a plan for searching the area that would lie between them. They had two hours left. Two hours to ‘kill’ the two men who stood between them and victory, and to retrieve the silver crucifixes hidden at strategic points along the way.
The Stapler really was one sick witch.
But all that remained was to eliminate their competitors and find the final cross.
The borders of this brutal jungle game had been demarcated with yellow tape that looked to Joni suspiciously like that used at homicide scenes. The square inside which the game would be played had been strewn with cameras of all kinds. She could almost feel the all-seeing eyes peering down at her from trees and rocks. She wriggled uncomfortably as she thought they might be looking up at her from the hiding places within the ground itself. Each team was also required to call in on their satellite phone on the half-hour, to register positions and ensure they were safe.
Lex had insisted upon this precaution, to Sally’s disgust.
But, apart from the cameras and phones, they were truly alone. Just four contestants. Four paintball guns. And two men who felt their honour had been slighted.
We’re so shagged.
Every twenty metres or so, Joni uttered a single warble, trying to vary the pitch and length in the manner of a real chaffinch looking for a mate. And Frankie would answer. They were moving, slowly, relentlessly, closer to each other.
And to the source of the moaning.
Joni saw the darkness begin to thin a little way ahead. She could see small pricks of light dancing through the trees. A clearing of some kind? As she came closer, moving carefully, so carefully, she could hear her sister’s calls getting closer. Frankie could only be a few hundred yards behind. She would be there in a few moments.
Ten, at the most.
Discretion demanded that Joni wait until her sister caught up to her, so they could investigate the source of the cries together. But as she waited, the moaning seemed to take on a new level of anguish, and Joni’s heart leaped with empathy. She was sure now it was Kazuki moaning and that he was wounded – or, at least, faking it really well.
Had Takahiro heard Kazuki too? And would he do anything about his team mate’s cries if he had, or would he not dare risk exposing himself?
That was one way humans were different from animals. Animals would never leave a mate or friend injured and alone. They stayed around, licking and petting each other, while they waited for the inevitable.
In that moment, Joni knew she was more animal than human. She couldn’t wait for Frankie. Ten minutes would feel like ten hours out here; alone, afraid and in pain.
Their father had always said, If you’re afraid, you count it out.
You just commit, then you start to count.
And on zero, you go.
Ten. Joni pushed through the sticky, prickling things towards pinpricks of light.
Nine. She brought her hands to her mouth, and gave a quick series of warbling wails that she hoped indicated she was about to do something different.
Eight. She stopped and listened. There was a fainter sound in reply that suggested Joni must now be moving faster than Frankie, now that she was closer to the light coming from the gap in the trees.
Seven. The moaning began again but now Joni could make out words. Japanese. It sounded like an appeal to a mother, or to God.
Six. She stepped faster, desperate now to get to him. There was no way he was faking that squeaky growl of fear and desperation.
Five. She slashed wildly at the branches, her heartbeat stepping out a tango.
Go, go, go.
Four. Joni felt herself tumble over something as the light caught her eyes. A fallen branch – a large one – caught the edge of her ankle and upended her swiftly.
Three. Get up and keep counting; just keep counting. Not much further.
Two. Pause to collect herself. One more step and it will be over.
One. Joni stepped out into a lighter area, and realised, quickly correcting her sway, that she had emerged onto the edge of some kind of ravine, leading into a creek bed and a swamp below. She could hear the trickling of running water, and see mossy rocks dipping precariously at her feet.
It was hard to tell the depth of the creek bed, but if Kazuki had fallen – perhaps over the same log as she had – he must have had a serious fall.
Like the ghost of Christmas past, the memory of the briefing Lex had given them prior to the final challenge reared its head. One word burned hotly in Joni’s mind. Crocodiles. And more. Stay away from the creek beds further inland.
She pursed her lips in concentration, recalling the layers of jungle she had marched through over the last few hours.
Yep, they were definitely inland.
And this was definitely a creek bed.
Joni loved animals, but reptiles were a whole other ball game. Especially big, prehistoric-looking reptiles whose sole purpose seemed to be to terrify, kill and eat.
Joni’s resolve wavered. She peered down into the muddy water, which seemed filled with things that threatened ferocity and death. Her stomach churned and sweat beaded on her top lip. A chill assailed her.
Then the moaning sounded again.
As Joni looked down, she decided the ravine was not as deep as she had first imagined. The perilous descent was deceptive, with its slippery, jagged rocks and tangled roots. Groups of rock made shallow pools at regular intervals down the slope. On closer inspection, the creek at the bottom was perhaps only ten feet down.
Still far enough to do some damage.
Scanning the rocks below, Joni saw him. His Rambo-style camouflage gear made it hard to pick him out, but his face glowed white with fear and pain.
He saw her at the same moment. ‘Pleeease, help me, Jonee,’ he sniffed. ‘I fell. I trip. Don’t know where Takahiro-san is.’
Joni hesitated, wondering how far away Frankie was. ‘Can’t you use the rocks to climb up?’
‘My foot stuck under some roots. I need some-sing. I need to pull myself up, but there nothing here … where I am.’
Joni peered down again. He had landed in shallow water, in a kind of sinkhole, and the walls of the creek bed around him looked to be made of some kind of slimy rock. There was nowhere he could gain purchase to lever himself out.
‘Are you hurt?’
He paused. ‘No, I don’t think so. I is pain, but I think from the fall. I don’t think my foot hurt. But is very stuck.’
Joni made some mental calculations in her head. If she could just wait until Frankie arrived, her sister might be able to lower Joni down, using the rope they had in their pack. Then Joni could perhaps lower some rope to Kazuki, to enable him to pull himself free. Maybe they could even do the whole thing without having to go right down there.
Joni raised her hands to her mouth and made an experimental bird call. She did not want to be the one responsible for Takahiro leaping out from beside some native tree and paintballing her sister between the eyes.
Frankie’s response a moment later sounded as if she were still at least five minutes away. She must have taken a wrong turn.
Well, Kazuki would just have to wait.
Joni peered down again and immediately wished she hadn’t. A dark shadow was creeping inexorably across the creek towards Kazuki.
Fuck, fuck, triple fuck.
She was going to have to try to get him out right now. Alone.
Working quickly, her fingers clumsy with stress and heat, Joni yanked the coil of rope from her backpack. She knotted one end around the nearest tree.
Another Leichhardt tree.
Joni wondered whether it were a presentiment of doom.
She wrapped the rope around her middle and began to descend to a point where she could throw the end of the rope to Kazuki with some degree of accuracy. The scramble part of the way down took only a minute or so and, as Joni prepared to throw the rest of the rope to the trapped man, she indulged herself with a glance in the direction of the creeping shape. It seemed to be picking up speed.
She could tell by Kazuki’s frantic squirming that he had seen it too.
Joni decided that evasive action was required. She picked up a small rock from a loamy mound beside her and threw it in the direction of the shape, a hundred yards or so away from it, in the opposite direction from the terrified man.
It seemed to work.
The shape paused for a few seconds, and then turned and began to amble towards the place where the rock had fallen. Joni used the distraction to gather the remaining rope into her arms and hurl it towards the sinkhole. She missed the first time, and lost precious moments gathering the rope back towards her.
Where the hell was Frankie?
On her second try, Joni got the rope into the sinkhole, and had a clear view of Kazuki gathering it to himself, looking like a lost child. She felt rather than saw Kazuki work his arms up the rope and brace against it in an effort to free his trapped foot. The rope pinched cruelly against her middle. Her overriding thought was of how ridiculous the whole thing was.
Like Bindi the freakin’ jungle girl.
Kazuki appeared to have freed his foot and, for the first time, Joni felt herself exhale. The dark shape seemed still to be lumbering back towards where the rock had landed, so Kazuki might have a few moments to make a break for it.
As his foot hit the top lip of the rock, the pressure around Joni’s waist became almost unbearable and, just as he heaved himself up, the knot hastily tied on the tree unfurled like a blooming flower and Joni was anchorless. She tumbled over, falling and sliding down the slippery walls of the creek, before landing in a crumpled heap in the shallows at the bottom of the ravine.
Screaming pain caused her to swear. Why is it always the bloody shagging girl who does her ankle?
She looked hopefully towards Kazuki, and read relief and gratitude in his eyes.
It’s okay, he’ll come and help. It will be all right.
Just as Kazuki picked his way across to her, something happened. Not far from where she’d fallen, Takahiro leaped from behind a stand of trees, his rifle shouldered, screaming maniacally.
‘Noooooooooooooo!!!!’ An answering cry from Kazuki.
Joni closed her eyes. Oh fuck.
And then, just as she had foreseen, the blow came. Takahiro was a good shot – the paint blast struck her right on the forehead, and the force of the pellet slamming into her was so great it felt like she had been shot with a real bullet.
She recalled the rules, as explained in laborious detail by an almost orgasmic Stapler.
No head shots.
Kazuki was level with his master now, staring across and down at Joni, as if unable to believe what he was seeing. She raised a hand to her spinning head and looked at the purple paint on her fingers. In the acoustic prism created by the ravine, she could clearly hear Kazuki screaming furious Japanese at Takahiro.
Joni could see, through the whirling daze and flashing filling her vision, that Kazuki was shaking his head in wonder. Takahiro was muttering something to him but Kazuki’s head was still moving restlessly from side to side.
She heard one word clearly. ‘Crocodile,’ he insisted in disbelief.
Hurry up, Joni thought, get the betrayal scene with Kazuki over and come get me, before that croc does.
Joni tried to stand, so she could start the climb back up the incline, but her ankle gave way immediately. She wasn’t going anywhere without a solid crutch. She almost smiled. So what’s new?
Kazuki took a long look at Joni as Takahiro laid a hand on his arm. ‘I sorry, Jonee.’
Then they were gone.
She was too sore and tired and afraid to feel angry.
Just as Joni had resigned herself to dying alone, she heard the single bright song of a chaffinch very close by. She screamed out to her sister and, within seconds, saw Frankie at the lip of the ravine. She looked good enough to dip in bronze.
But so far away.
Maybe it was the precariousness of the situation, but the sight of Frankie standing up there, her face grey with concern, so near but so far, sheeted home a memory of another time.
Coventry railway station.
Joni had been fifteen and Frankie seventeen when their parents had finally euthanased their terminally ill marriage.
And Joni and Frankie had been saying goodbye.
For the first time ever.
As different as they were, had always been, they had never been apart.
But this time it was for real.
Their father had taken an apartment in London and Frankie was starting at the London School of Economics, so she was going to go with him. Joni was staying with her mum. He had said she could go too, but Joni had known he hadn’t meant it. And someone needed to look after Lizzie. They had all known that.
They had stood there, the four of them, in two stiff, awkward pairs. Frankie had been standing with their father, straight-backed and formal but looking sad and afraid.
Joni had been standing by her mother, feeling sullen and resentful as hell. She had wanted to reach out to her sister, to touch her face. To fold her in her arms and say goodbye.
She was so close, it would take only a few steps to be near her again, smelling Pantene and vanilla and all the good things of Frankie.
But she was afraid that she might never be able to let go.
‘Joni!’ Her sister’s voice was shrill and flaky.
‘I’m here. I’m hurt. My foot.’
‘Bugger. Why is it always the bloody shagging girl who does her ankle?’
Joni smothered the laugh that rose in her throat.
‘Have you still got the sat-phone?’ Frankie said, obviously pushing herself to be businesslike.
Joni looked around at where she had fallen. Her backpack had come loose and was floating in the mucky shallows beside her. She extended her hand as far as she could and groped for the pack, finally grabbing one bungee cord and hauling it towards her. She fished for the sat-pack and dragged out the sodden apparatus. A few seconds of frantic button-pushing yielded nothing. The phone was dead.
And then, because things were apparently not quite bad enough, she was sure she saw the dark shape again, to her right, maybe only a hundred yards away.
And she knew just how Leichhardt must have felt.
‘Exactly how late are they?’ Lex’s voice could have frozen hot tea.
‘Sixteen minutes.’ Sally Staples was going for gung-ho. ‘You know what they’re like. They probably lost track bitching at each other.’
‘Right,’ Lex breathed. ‘So they rang in exactly on the minute six times previously, but not this time. And not one minute late. But sixteen.’
Sally swallowed visibly and nodded. Lex continued.
‘Grab the extraction crew. Tell them to fire the chopper.’ A nerve jumped in his clenched jaw.
‘No.’
Lex raised one of his famous eyebrows at her. But Sally stood her ground.
‘If we do that and there’s no problem, the whole day will have been wasted. We’ll need to do it over. And the weather is about to break. The delay will add days, at hundreds of thousands of pounds, to the schedule. Are you ready for that?’
Lex looked carefully at the young woman in front of him.
And she took the fight right up to him.
‘Because you know if you do, that’ll be the end of things for you. You’ll be just another washed-up director, strung out on too many pills and with too few ideas.’ Sally leaned into him, so close that he could smell CK One and determination. ‘You’ll be fucked.’
Lex stared at the ground, and then at his watch.