Time passed without Tom really noticing, as he sat in the forest recovering. He’d found a place where water had pooled, unable to soak into the dry soil. With his burnt forearm resting in that, he felt little pain unless he moved – another reason for not getting up and leaving.
At the start Buffy had sat staring at him, trying to force him into action. When this didn’t work she moved off to explore their surroundings. Spot was crouched down looking sad for himself, knowing he was in deep trouble, waiting for the punishment to come.
Tom must have dozed off, because when Buffy began barking he came to with a jump. She was standing, staring down into the burrow where Spot had been digging.
Oh no, not you too.
“Out of there, Buffy. Leave.”
Buffy moved back a little before crouching down, whining noisily while still staring at the burrow.
“What is it?” said Tom, climbing painfully to his feet. “Can you see the kiwi? Is that what it is?”
It was, and when Tom peered down the hole he could see it too. What he also saw was that its breast feathers were stuck together with blood – Spot’s teeth or claws had made contact with the bird.
Tom had to lie on the ground to reach it, and even then he couldn’t get two hands under the body. By feeling around he got hold of a leg and pulled. The kiwi fought but somehow that made it easier, and soon he had the bird on the surface.
Spot barked when he saw it, pulling on the lead until he had the branch moving. “No!” shouted Tom. “You’ve done enough damage.” Still Spot kept pulling, until Buffy turned and snarled at him. Then he backed away a little.
Examining the kiwi, Tom found a single gash on the breast that had ripped back the skin, exposing the flesh. With treatment the bird might survive; without, it was sure to die. But Tom had no idea where they were, so how could he guide Sally Page or any other rescuer to this place? Leaving the kiwi here wasn’t an option, he’d have to carry it out, and that posed a problem. With his injured arm there was no way he could carry the bird, and control Spot on a lead at the same time.
The solution was to connect the end of Spot’s lead to Buffy’s collar. At first Spot pulled on the lead trying to get free, but a couple of snarls from Buffy soon had him under control. With them settled, Tom folded the bottom of his jacket up over the kiwi, and instructed Buffy to find the main track. If he could make it there, then help shouldn’t be far away.
* * *
The trip out seemed to take forever. Going in, Tom had been spurred on by the need to find Spot. Now, there was not the same urgency, plus he was exhausted. So much so, that a couple of times, he stopped to lean against a tree trunk, not sure he could go any further. It was Buffy who got him going again. She seemed to have taken on responsibility for everyone – Spot, the kiwi, and especially Tom. With each step, the bond between dog and boy grew stronger.
During the trek, the storm passed its peak, allowing other sounds to be heard. A few birds ventured out and began calling in the late afternoon. Then came the sound of a siren, and Tom knew they were close to the main track. A few minutes later they pushed through the undergrowth onto the firebreak alongside the road. The source of the siren had passed by, but that didn’t worry Tom – it would have to come back the same way, at some stage. He sat down to wait.
* * *
Help, when it did arrive, came without sirens or flashing lights. That made no difference to Tom, who wouldn’t have heard or seen them anyway. He’d passed out, his body toppled over onto the road, arms still embracing the kiwi. Buffy was standing guard with Spot crouched down as far from the others as the lead would allow.
Fortunately Marika Greenwell was wide awake, excited about the story she was chasing. When the lights of her SUV picked out the group on the road she slowed to a stop and turned on the emergency warning lights. Buffy was at the door before she had it fully open.
“Hello Buffy. Is he all right?”
In answer Buffy led the way over to Tom who was still unconscious.
“Tom? Tom?”
His eyes opened. “I’m here,” he said weakly.
“Are you injured?”
“Yes.”
“Where?” Then Marika saw the bulge at his waist. In the dim light it looked like some horrific injury. “Oh my god! Your stomach! What happened?”
Tom gave a feeble smile. “No, that’s a kiwi. It’s my arm that’s injured. Can you give me a hand up.”
Once standing, Tom showed Marika the kiwi and its injury.
“Did a dog do that?” she asked.
Tom nodded.
Marika’s eyes went wide. “Buffy?”
“No. That one there,” said Tom pointing to Spot who was cowering in the shadows. “He’s Spot, the Davidson’s pet dog.”
“Is he now,” said Marika, thinking. “Um … do you mind if I take some photos … like … before I take you to hospital?”
“Yes please,” said Tom. “I want everyone to see what the real kiwi killer looks like.”
* * *
The next 12 hours were hazy for Tom. He remembered helping the dogs into the back of the SUV before climbing in himself and also the difficulty of fitting the seatbelt while he still held the kiwi. After that were bits and pieces at the hospital: his burn being treated, some injections, and the transfer into a bed. From then on there was nothing until he woke to find it was daylight outside, with blue skies. His father sat beside the bed, working his phone.
“Hi Dad,”
Brandon looked up, startled. “Oh! You’re awake. How do you feel?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“How’s the arm?”
Tom looked across to his heavily-bandaged left arm, which was arranged out to one side, lying on a pillow of its own. “Don’t know. Can’t feel a thing.” He wriggled his fingers. “It still works, but.”
“You had quite an adventure,” said Brandon. “Didn’t you.”
Tom shrugged. “Where were you when I called?”
“Working. The boss wanted to get most of the fruit in before the storm hit.”
“But the storm had started by then.”
“Um … yeah, nah, we were in the shed sorting out what we’d picked. The rain was so heavy I didn’t hear the phone. Sorry Tom.”
Another shrug from Tom. Maybe it was true, maybe not. “So what’s been happening,” he asked.
Brandon brightened. “Well, you’re a bit of a hero around here. What with saving Mike Davidson, a kiwi, and bringing in a kiwi killer. Everyone’s impressed.”
“Is Mike okay?”
“He’s in here somewhere,” said Brandon, waving an arm. “I hear his legs are pretty banged up. Won’t be going pig hunting again in a hurry.”
“What about the dogs? What’s happening to Buffy?”
“I dunno,” said Brandon, without interest. “I suppose they’re in the pound.”
Tom thought about this. Maybe now was the time to say what he wanted, while Brandon was all defensive. “I want Buffy to be my dog.”
Immediately Brandon began shaking his head. “Aw, Tom, I don’t know about that. Your mum won’t want a dog around the baby.”
Tom glared at him. “But I’m living with you!”
Brandon turned away. “Your mum’s making noises about having you back … back with her in Hamilton.”
“Why?”
“You’ll have to ask her that. She’ll be here later.”
* * *
After his father left, Tom had little time to think before a nurse arrived to change his dressing, take his temperature, and generally check him over. Then a junior doctor came and gave him the once over. After that there was food, of which Tom ate about half.
He had just settled down again when Dave Hughes arrived to pick up his phone. They found it in the bedside cabinet. Dave checked it was still working before bringing Tom up-to-date with what had been happening.
“That logging truck’s been cleared off the road and they’re working at the site again. It’ll take the rest of the week to process all the trees they felled. But they saved most of them. Only a few came down with the wind.” He paused to shake his head. “I can tell you it was pretty rough in there at the height of the storm.” He chuckled. “But I don’t have to tell you that, do I? You were there at ground zero. Bit of a hero aren’t you?”
Tom deflected the comment by asking about the dogs.
“They’re in the pound. That DoC woman … um, Sally … she went and picked up all of Davidson’s pack. They’re being tested to see if any of the others are also kiwi killers.”
“What will happen to them?” asked Tom.
“Well, I doubt they’ll ever be returned to Davidson. None of them were registered or chipped.” A pause. “I’ve got in mind to try and get one of them myself.”
“Buffy?”
Dave smiled. “No, you’ll want Buffy, won’t you?”
Tom looked away, not wanting Dave to see the tears that were forming.
“What’s the problem?” asked Dave. Then, when Tom wouldn’t answer, he said, “Aw, I get it. You’re going back to live with your mum. Is that it?”
Tom gave the slightest of nods.
“And you don’t want to go?”
“No.”
“Well, don’t give up yet. You never know what might be possible. Just hang in there, Tom, and I’ll see what I can do.”
* * *
Next visitor in line was Marika. She had news on the kiwi, which had been all sewn up and was doing well. She repeated what Dave had said about Mike Davidson’s dogs, and then she gave news about Mrs Hopwood’s dog, Harvey.
“He’s not been fully cleared yet. He’ll be held at least until the DNA results come back for Spot. But that’s simply a precaution. Sally Page no longer believes Harvey’s the killer.”
She then moved into a full interview about the events of the previous day. Tom answered her questions, but his mind was elsewhere, thinking of the future rather than the past.
At the end, she said, “By the way, Mike asked me to tell you he’d like to see you sometime. He’s at the other end of the ward. I gather he wants to thank you.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t mind being there for that. Get a photo of the hero meeting the villain.” The smile faded. “But that’s not going to happen, is it? Mike Davidson is not a happy man.”
After she left, Tom decided he’d go meet the man, and get it done with. He needed to get out of bed and go to the toilet, anyway.
Mike was asleep when Tom arrived, but it was obvious why he was not a happy man – he was hung up by cords like a puppet. Both legs were plastered and raised up from the bed. His chest was tied with a bandage, and blotches of antiseptic paint covered other parts of his body. Even in his sleep he looked angry. Tom decided to leave and come back another time.
On his way back, Tom explored the hospital. He discovered there wasn’t much to it, and it wasn’t even in Kerikeri. It was in Kawakawa, an hour’s drive from home. Tom then realised that Dave had gone out of his way to visit, it wasn’t just a courtesy call, it was the action of a true friend. Maybe the man really could do something about keeping Tom with his father in Kerikeri.
* * *
That hope was shattered soon after he got back to his bed. In the seat was his mother and standing, with the baby in a sling on his chest, was the partner, Allan.
Mandy’s first words were, “So, this is the mess your father got you into.”
Tom climbed into his bed before speaking. “Hello Mum. How are you?”
“I’m all right,” she snapped. “More importantly, how are you?”
He shrugged. “My arm’s sore, but the rest of me is okay.”
“What I want to know is what were you doing out in the forest during a tropical cyclone?”
So Tom told her.
When he’d finished she said, “Some people are calling you a hero.” Her voice had softened. “Sounds like you were.”
“I don’t know about that.”
Then the hardness came back. “What was your father doing all of this time?”
“He was at work.”
Mandy snorted. “So he says. I’d like a second opinion on that. I know him from old.”
“He’s not like that any more,” said Tom, hoping he sounded convincing.
Another snort. “Oh yeah? What is he like?”
“He’s changed. He’s more settled.”
“Yeah, right,” said Mandy, her voice full of sarcasm. “I suppose it’s a change if you’re not living in the back of a van any more. But that hovel he’s got is no better. No son of mine should live in a place like that. When you get out of here you’re coming to live with me.”
Tom opened his mouth to object, but Mandy shouted him down.
“No! No argument, Tom. That’s what’s going to happen. I’ve made up my mind.”
This time Tom jammed his mouth shut. There was no point in arguing when she was in this mood. Instead he looked up at Allan to see what he thought of the move. But the man had turned his back and was staring out the window, his body tight and motionless. He clearly didn’t want another man’s son living in the same house, and that gave Tom a glimmer of hope. Maybe, sometime later, when the couple were alone, Allan would do the arguing for him.