Page 32 of Lost In Kakadu

Sadness briefly crossed her eyes. “I know, but Spencer won’t need his clothes anymore.” She unzipped the case and tipped out the clothes to create a rugged bed.

Charlie’s eyes remained closed as Mackenzie lowered him onto the clothing and despite his shallow breathing and pale skin, he looked peaceful. Mackenzie resisted the urge to re-examine the wound, stressing over the fact he could do nothing with the injury anyway.

With Charlie settled, Mackenzie occupied himself getting a meal prepared before the sun disappeared. Unwelcome questions raged through his mind. He focused on moulding the ingredients into smooth dough, his own form of meditation. When the dough was ready, he folded it over a handful of beans then pinched the sides to seal it and placed it onto the hotplate.

Charlie groaned and Abigail kneeled next to him. “It’s okay, Charlie. You’re safe now.” She moistened a cloth to wipe across his forehead. “Are you hungry?”

Charlie nodded his response. “Smells good.”

“I think it’s ready.” Mackenzie carried the tin over from the fire.

He sliced the calzone into three equal portions and beans oozed out, sizzling on the hot metal. Mackenzie took a bite and the crust cracked as the soft bread mingled with the warm beans.

Charlie only ate a few small mouthfuls before he succumbed to sleep, and Abigail covered him with one of Spencer’s shirts before they crept away.

The air cooled sharply as night descended.We need to find a way to keep Charlie warm and free from moisture overnight.

Mackenzie had no intention of putting him in the plane with the bodies.

The smell from the cabin, when it occasionally wafted in their direction, was horrific enough, but getting him up there would be nearly impossible.

After a while he had an idea. He hooked the cargo net onto the wreck to create two sides and wove bushy branches into the holes until it was a blanket of dark green foliage. The resulting two-sided bedroom was the best he could do.

Abigail stepped to his side. “You’re very clever.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll sleep here too, just in case he needs me.”

Abigail hugged herself and chewed on her bottom lip.

Huh. She’s looking for an invite.He touched her shoulder. “Shall we make our beds now?”

Her eyes lit up. “Thank you.”

They each dragged over another suitcase and spread out the clothes to make a bed. Mackenzie was overwhelmed with sadness at the sight of Rodney’s favourite denim jacket. Knowing he would never see it on him again broke his heart.

As he folded it up, he inhaled Rodney’s ocean-scented aftershave.

It was the same cologne he’d been using for over a decade.

I’ll never smell him again.

As he placed the jacket beneath his head as a pillow, a slice of his heart crumbled away.

ChapterThirteen

Ashrill bird call interrupted Mackenzie’s sleep. He opened his eyes to see a crow clinging to the shredded edge of the cabin wall above him. The bird’s sleek, black feathers glistened in the morning sun and its menacing red eyes stared at the outline of Rodney’s lifeless body beneath the T-shirt Mackenzie had draped over him.

Mackenzie snapped his hand and the bird squawked and flew to a nearby eucalyptus tree.

He looked over at the old man’s slight frame. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at Charlie, looking for signs he was still alive. It seemed like ages before Charlie’s chest finally moved, ever so slightly up and down with a shallow breath. He sighed with relief.

Mackenzie rolled onto his side and as he stared into the dead fire he thought about their plans for today. He’d never really believed this moment would come, but with no sign of a rescue, they couldn’t put off burying the bodies any longer. The burden of having to bury the man he loved weighed heavily. His eyes burned and tears spilled down his cheeks. They fell as dark spots on Rodney’s jacket.

The jacket had once been the centre of one of their biggest fights. Rodney had worn it, rather than a more appropriate suit, as his choice of outfit at Mackenzie’s most important night as a chef. The grand opening of his stylish new restaurant had been the culmination of years of work, but it had been marred by Rodney’s choice of wardrobe.

Mackenzie inhaled a deep breath and smelled Rodney’s aftershave on the denim. He smiled to himself as he remembered Rodney arguing with him over the jacket but, of course, it had become his favourite piece of wardrobe. Mackenzie eventually grew to love seeing him wear it. He looked carefree in it, a pleasant contrast to the stiff collared suit he wore daily as a lawyer. With a burning heart, he decided he would see Rodney in it one last time after all. He’d bury Rodney in this jacket.

A crow cawed, loud and obnoxious, from the tree line, bringing him back to the moment. Abigail stretched awake, sat up, and glanced at Charlie. Their eyes met and she mouthed ‘good morning’. She untangled herself from the bedding and crawled out into the morning sun before getting to her feet.

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