Page 30 of Lost In Kakadu

They each swallowed a trickle of water, just enough to moisten their mouths and then Mackenzie carried on.

Minutes later, he glimpsed a flash of white through the trees ahead. “There it is.” He sighed loudly. “Are you ready for this?”

“No.” Sweat beaded her upper lip.

“Me neither. You can wait here if you like. I’ll have a look first.”

She chewed on the inside of her lip as if debating his question and then she looked up at him. “No. I’ll come with you.”

The back section of the plane rested upside down on its tail and the shredded edges of the cabin met the forest floor. Mackenzie clung to hope that someone had survived but with no obvious signs of life he dreaded what he was about to find.

“Hello?” he called out. “Is that vomit?” He pointed at a mass of ants on the ground.

“Someone survived.” He dashed toward the plane. “Oh god! I hope we’re not too late.”

Chapter Twelve

At the shredded edge of the plane wreck, Mackenzie’s heart was in his throat as he stepped into the dimness.

An elderly man was slumped against the inside wall of the cabin. His legs were stretched out in front of him, and his chin rested on his chest.

“Hey, buddy.” Mackenzie knelt beside him.

The old man’s wispy, grey hair clung to his face. His skin was morbidly pale. Even his lips were colourless. He looked dead. Crushed, Mackenzie withdrew and as he did, he saw the body dangling from the upturned chair.

“Jesus.” He took an involuntary step back. The hanging man’s hands were a deep pomegranate colour and swollen almost beyond recognition.

Mackenzie jumped when the elderly man groaned. He stared at the body looking for signs of life. Finally, the man’s eyelids twitched.

“He’s alive.” Mackenzie stepped closer and touched the old man’s shoulder. “Hey man, are you hurt?”

The man mumbled something.

“Abi, get me the water.”

Abigail joined them in the crowded space and Mackenzie saw her gasp at the disfigured corpse. “Oh my God,” she whispered as she handed over the water without taking her eyes offthe body.

Mackenzie placed his hand on the old man’s neck and guided his head back. He touched the bottle to his cracked lips and the man opened his mouth in response. A couple of drops touched his tongue and Mackenzie heard him swallow.

The injured man came more alive with each mouthful and when he opened his eyes, their redness failed to dampen the intensity in his pale blue irises.

“Are you hurt?” Mackenzie repeated his question.

The man nodded and lifted his hand to his chest.

“Your chest hurts?”

He nodded again.

Mackenzie turned to Abigail. “Do you know first aid?”

She shook her head and nudged backwards.

Mackenzie prayed the old man’s injury wasn’t serious. The last time he’d administered first aid, it hadn’t worked out so well.

The man’s shirt was stiff with dried blood that cracked as Mackenzie unbuttoned it. The pale eyes stared up at him, as if dreading Mackenzie’s reaction. Mackenzie trembled as he peeled back the shirt to reveal a gaunt, hairless chest. Dark, dried blood covered the right side of the man’s torso and a chunk of bone protruded from his chest like a stick of chalk.

Mackenzie swallowed down a wave of nausea as the man’s intense gaze bore into him. But he was determined to remain calm despite his mind exploding into a million terrifying thoughts. The silence between them bristled with unspoken questions. After a while the man tilted his head in a slow nod as if he had all the answers.

---