Page 11

Chapter Eleven

A t the first glimmer of sunrise, the birds began their morning ritual of calls and a kookaburra laughed so loud Mackenzie expected to see it right beside him. The animals were out there, but so far, he hadn’t seen any of them. Careful not to wake Abigail, he quietly rummaged through his suitcase and changed his clothes.

The sun gilded the wet leaves as wisps of smoke pirouetted upward from the fire. As he followed its progression upwards, he realised their critical mistake.

Smoke was the only way rescuers could see them.

Dashing into the bushes over and over, he stacked the fire with layers and layers of wood. The billowing smoke dispersed in the breeze, but he prayed that some of it managed to escape the dense bushes.

His stomach was angry, twisting knots, demanding to be fed, but he couldn’t stand the concept of baked beans for yet another meal. A large sheet of metal dangling from the plane flashed in the sun and an idea formed in his mind.

With renewed energy he walked to the wing, sneaking a glance at Abigail who looked peaceful in her sleep. The metal was the size of a coffee table, yet it clung to the wreckage by a mere ten centimetres. It was more than a match for any gadgets on the multi tool.

This was going to require brute strength .

Gripping the large sheet and clenching his jaw, he forced it to twist over and over. The battle against the metal was exhausting and he felt like he’d competed in a wrestling match when it finally released with a hollow rumble.

He dragged the sheet to the fire and tossed it onto the flames. The white paint burned off with a crackle, sending black smoke out the sides. Once he scrubbed off the last of the paint, he smiled at the result.

Like a new teppanyaki hotplate.

He scooped a handful of flour into the middle with a sprinkle of sugar and worked in a small amount of water to form smooth dough that he flattened out with his palm.

The tin popped as the dough sizzled. He flipped it over with his fingers, wincing at the heat. When it was ready, the brown crust glided off the metal and he juggled the hot slice between his fingers. The crisp outer layer cracked as he bit into it and he closed his eyes, moaning with pleasure.

“What’re you eating?” Abigail looked like she’d just woken up, with squinting eyes, matted hair and little creases on her cheek from sleeping on her side.

Mackenzie gulped down the mouthful. “I made bread.”

“You said we couldn’t eat without discussing it and now I find you sneaking food.”

“I wasn’t sneaking, I was experimenting. Would you like some?” He handed the slice toward her knowing the smell of fresh bread would be too enticing to resist. He grinned as she reached for it and took a bite.

“This is good.” She seemed surprised.

“I know.”

She broke off a piece and chewed. “I wondered what all that noise was about. You woke me.”

“Sorry about that. I tried to be quiet.”

“How did you know what to do?”

“I’m a chef.”

“Oh.” She raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me that.”

He shrugged. “You didn’t ask.” They’d been together for a couple of days and yet they didn’t know anything about each other.

She nodded at him. “This whole situation has me acting a little strange. ”

Several comments came to mind, but Mackenzie remained silent.

“I’m usually surrounded by lots of people and …”

“And?”

“And, my friends are different.”

“Nothing like me. Right?”

She didn’t respond.

“Come on, you can say it. You’re uncomfortable because I love a man.”

“No.” Her hand went to her chest. “It’s not that.”

“Yes, it is. You’ve been prancing around me like I have leprosy. Why don’t you just admit it?”

She averted her eyes.

“Look, we’re just like any couple. I looked forward to Rodney coming home each night, we shared everything and enjoyed each other’s company. No different to you and Spencer.”

She looked at him blankly as if confused by his comments.

“Forget it. You’ll never understand.” He collected a backpack and tossed in the last two water bottles along with all the empty bottles, the army knife, and his underwear. “Let’s get going. We don’t know how long it’ll take to find the other half of the plane.” He swung the pack over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”

The plane’s path of destruction was easy to find but the dense vegetation made it difficult to follow. Mackenzie led the way, pushing back branches as he went. He paused at an enormous eucalyptus tree to tie a pair of his jockey shorts to a low hanging branch.

Abigail looked at him, wide eyed.

He shrugged. “In case we have trouble finding our way back.”

The stifling heat made him feel claustrophobic as they crept amongst the dense foliage. At least the shade offered some relief. The tree canopy was like intricate lace and the sun only penetrated through in narrow patches.

Mackenzie tried to ignore Abigail’s constant groaning, but it was impossible.

Almost every step she made was accompanied with a complaint of some sort. A plant with a bunch of green fruits dangling below a gnarled branch caught his eye. Pinching one of the fruits he noted its peachy consistency but resisted the urge to taste it .

He didn’t fancy getting food poisoning out here.

Instead, he marked the tree with another pair of underpants.

When Abigail caught up to him, he pushed past the bush and continued on. A few steps later he stopped at a large square can partially embedded in the damp earth. He turned it over and thick amber liquid dribbled from a crushed corner.

“Great, we have vegetable oil.” He secured it upright. “We’ll collect it on the way back.”

Up ahead a white cylinder was tangled in amongst a bush with enormous leaves and he trudged through thick bushes to get to it. “Hey Abi, we’ve got powdered milk.”

“My name is Abigail.” Her lips were knotted in a scowl

“What’s wrong with you now?”

“You’re deliberately flinging those branches at me.”

“What?” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. They hurt.”

He held back a large branch and directed her ahead. “Well, you go first then.”

“I will.” She stormed past him.

Placing the tin on the ground, he marked the nearest tree and then followed behind her as she grunted with exaggerated movements through the bush. She pushed through a spindly branch, and it whipped back giving Mackenzie only a split second to avoid the side swipe.

“See?” Abigail wobbled her head.

“What?” He feigned ignorance.

A little while later he saw a bag stuck halfway up a tree. “Look at that.” The case rested on a large branch about four metres off the ground.

“How do we get it?”

“It’s too high to worry about now.” He directed her in front of him again. “Let’s keep moving.”

“No, you can go first. I’m getting tired.” Sweat dampened her temples and her fringe clung to her forehead like rats’ tails.

He swung the backpack from his shoulder. “Want a drink?”

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.”