Page 50 of Lost In Kakadu

“Um … some of them.”

“Mackenzie ate some earlier. I told him not to. Anyway, he’s been acting weird ever since.”

“I have several pages on mushrooms, but believe me, if he was going to get sick, he would’ve already.” Charlie paused and then in an unrecognisable voice said, “He chose wisely.” He chuckled and then gasped in pain.

Abigail had no idea what he was laughing about. She looked away shaking her head. Their situation was dire. They had little food, limited water and she hadn’t showered in four days. Her hair felt like an alien creature was hibernating on her head and worst of all, she could smell her own body odour. Sitting back, she examined her hands. They were utterly filthy. Dirt embedded along the shallow creases of her palm like a human road map and dark brown stains were now visible below her fingernails, despite her red nail polish.

Mackenzie returned to the bedding holding a charcoaled can of baked beans with a T-shirt.

“Here we go, mate. The special of the day is a delicacy in these parts, fire roasted baked beans.” He smiled as he placed the can next to Charlie. “There’s a small fork on the army knife.” Mackenzie presented the miniature fork like a trophy and chuckled. “You’ll just have to eat them one bean at a time.”

“That’s probably best anyway.” Charlie popped a bean into his mouth and Abigail heard him swallow.

Abigail left Charlie and Mackenzie and walked to the gravesite. She folded her arms over her chest at the edge of the dark pit and stared into it.

Oh Spencer, what am I going to do?

For sixteen years Spencer had been telling her what to do. He’d dictated everything, from what she wore to who she spent time with. Now, she felt completely lost without him. She hugged herself as tears stung her eyes.

Blinking the tears away, her chest tightened with each heavy footfall she made back to the plane.

Chapter Twenty-One

Mackenzie was a robot. Moving without thinking, blocking out the horror of what he was doing. The last three hours had been the most harrowing of his adult life and the images of carrying the bodies to the pit would forever scar his memory. As he tumbled dirt onto Rodney’s denim jacket the noise seemed amplified, as if each crumb of soil beat its own drum.

The sun disappeared below the horizon with dramatic swiftness and beyond the clearing it was as black as the bowels of hell. An eerie glow from the fire illuminated the plane but it cast shifting shadows over Abigail as she sat motionless with her knees to her chest.

She looked ghostly white, like an apparition, and cast a tragic figure, a mere wisp of the woman she’d been just days ago.

He wanted to sit beside her, to put his arms around her, to cry on her shoulder. And he desperately wanted to be comforted himself, but rejection, a stark reminder that he was all alone, was likely to tip him into insanity.

His stomach screamed at him, demanding to be fed, but the thought of eating, after what he’d just done, seemed just a little too normal. With Rodney gone, nothing would ever be normal again. He scooped the last of the loose dirt onto the grave and smoothed the top. Then he pitched the tin into the darkness and heard it crash in the near distance.

Mackenzie lay back on the warm grass staring at the night sky. At first it looked completely black, but as if by magic, hundreds of stars appeared, like candles being lit in a distant galaxy. A bright star pierced through the tree canopy. It winked at him and as he studied the pinprick of light, it flashed red and blue.A satellite.The distant sparkle mocked him.

“Are you okay?” Abigail interrupted his thoughts.

Am I okay?“No.” His throat was rough and dry.

“We did the right thing, didn’t we?” She wrung her hands together as if twisting out her revulsion.

He mulled over her question. It waswrong. All wrong.

The crash was wrong.

Rodney’s death was wrong, everyone’s death was wrong.

And burying them in that shallow grave, all on top of each other like that was wrong too.

But whether it was right or wrong didn’t matter. They had no choice. They couldn’t leave the bodies exposed like they were any longer.

When they were rescued though, he had no doubt the bodies would be brought home.

And then Rodney would have a proper burial. He’d make sure of it.

Brutal questions invaded his thoughts.

What if I’m the last man standing?

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