Black Cairn Point (12 page)

‘She’s totally off her nut.’ I sighed and buried my face in my hands.

‘Maybe,’ Dougie said quietly beside me.

‘Maybe?’ I tuned to glare at him. ‘She thinks a creature from the deep came and swallowed him!’

That was how Emma had explained it. In between gasps and sobs and tears she’d described how the air at the cove had gone still, the water smooth. She’d stopped trying to kick stringy wet seaweed off a broken log and turned just in time to see a black mass burst from the water. Handless, it had nonetheless managed to grab hold of Darren, pluck him from the shore like he was weightless, then vanished with him, disappearing into the sea.

‘Totally off her nut,’ I repeated under my breath.

Dougie heard me but he didn’t react.

Emma was asleep in the boys’ tent, knocked out by two antihistamine pills Dougie had unearthed from Martin’s bag. I was too wired to even think about going to bed. Tension gathered in a knot between my shoulder blades and my knee jiggled constantly as my left foot worked itself into the sand. Besides, the fire was nowhere near burned out and I didn’t want to leave it unsupervised. Nor did I want to prematurely extinguish it with spadefuls of wet sand, as Dougie had suggested. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of the dark.

I looked over at Dougie, suddenly noticing that his hair was damp, gleaming slightly in the firelight. He was wearing different clothes, too. I frowned, confused.

‘Did you go in the sea?’ I asked.

‘Eh, yeah.’

‘Swimming?’ Alone and injured?

‘Not intentionally.’ He twisted his mouth into a sheepish grimace. ‘I thought the cold water might help my ankle, reduce the swelling. But I lost my balance, got totally soaked. Clothes and everything.’

‘Are you all right?’ I asked, leaning forwards and scrutinising him more carefully. ‘Is your ankle … is it worse?’

‘I hurt it a bit when I fell, but I’m fine. Just got a bit wet.’

We lapsed back into silence, but I couldn’t bear to let it last very long.

‘What time is it?’ I asked.

Dougie tilted his watch so that it caught in the light from the fire.

‘Just after midnight.’

I snorted. ‘Happy Birthday.’

It took a moment, but Dougie laughed too. The noise didn’t last long and it didn’t lift the oppressive atmosphere. I sighed.

‘Dougie, what are we going to do?’

Again, there were several seconds of silence.

‘I don’t know.’

‘What … what do you think happened to Darren?’

I watched him carefully. He was handling Darren’s disappearance fairly well so far, better than Martin’s. And Darren’s sudden vanishing act couldn’t be explained away the way Martin’s could. He’d had no reason to go, no spur. Unless he’d had an argument with Emma and stormed off. But that didn’t explain the state Emma was in.

‘I don’t know.’ Toneless, emotionless. Dougie gazed out into the dark rather than at the fire.

‘You … you don’t believe what Emma said, do you?’

‘I don’t know …’

‘Dougie –’

‘No.’ He cut off my words. ‘I don’t believe her. But …’

‘He wouldn’t have just disappeared,’ I finished for him.

‘Right.’ He pressed his knuckles into his eyes. ‘Darren’s a thoughtless tosser at times, but he wouldn’t just go. Besides, his car’s here. I just … I just wish we could do something. Now.’

‘I know,’ I said soothingly, because he was looking more agitated by the second. ‘But we’ll go as soon as it’s light, Dougie. We’ll get to the road and use Emma’s phone as soon as we get any reception and if we can’t get a signal, well then we’ll just keep walking till we find someone. I mean, we’re not in the middle of nowhere, not really. That girl said there were plenty of people round here, they’re just dotted about.’

I stared at Dougie. He still had his face hidden in his hands, grinding his fists into the sockets like he wanted to rub out the memory of the last couple of days, start afresh. I didn’t see any trace of tears but his skin was a blotchy red, his jaw clenched. I didn’t know what to say.

Suddenly he lifted his head, gazed at me. The fire was slowly dimming, throwing his face into shadow. It made him almost frightening, especially with the dark gleam of his eyes boring into mine.

‘Let’s try and sleep,’ he said. ‘I want this day over with.’

There was no discussion over sleeping arrangements. Without a word we both gravitated towards the biggest tent, where Emma was already quietly sleeping. With everything that had happened, no one wanted to go to bed alone.

We crawled into our individual bags and then, without seeming to think about it, Dougie shifted over towards me and draped his arm around my waist, sliding into the same position we’d occupied the night before. I didn’t complain. I needed the comfort.

I didn’t think I’d sleep, but when I opened my eyes it was lighter in the tent. Before sunrise, I was sure, but not by much. The daylight was grey, silhouettes and shadows taking on their proper shapes but still colourless, muted. The air was cold, the tip of my nose freezing. Despite this, I was absolutely sweltering. For a moment I couldn’t work it out, it seemed wrong somehow, but then I gradually became aware of the rigid band around my middle. Dougie was holding me so tight it was hard to breathe.

Not wanting to wake him, I tried to shimmy my arms up so that I could reach the zipper and let some air in to cool my skin. I had to knock his hand out of the way to do so, and behind me I heard a murmured groan.

‘Sorry,’ I muttered quietly. Emma was still sleeping too.

Dougie didn’t reply, although I was sure I must have woken him. Curious, I twisted round so that I could look at him.

He had his eyes shut, but scrunched tightly, and his mouth was puckered. His hair lay flat against his head and strands were plastered across his forehead. Worried, I reached out tentatively and pressed my fingers to his face. It was burning hot and his skin was tacky with sweat. His moaned again, pulling away from my touch. His arm slid off my waist, freeing me. I sat up, trying to move carefully, aware that every shift of my weight sent the air mattress rippling under both Emma and Dougie. Slowly, I slid my hand under the edge of his sleeping bag, felt around his shoulder. He was feverishly hot and his t-shirt was sticking to him like a second skin.

Scared, I yanked my hand back, gripped it with my other. It felt warm, like it had conducted some of the heat vibrating off Dougie’s skin. Was he sick? Last night he’d seemed, well, not fine, but okay. Not unwell.

He wasn’t okay now, though. Quickly, I did an assessment of my own state. I felt normal. Not hot or woozy. Stomach felt fine. Whatever he had, I didn’t seem to have caught it.

I remembered the gleam of his wet hair in the fire. The dunking he’d taken in the sea. Was that it? It had been cold last night, the water even colder.

‘Dougie,’ I whispered. His eyebrows twitched, but he didn’t stir. ‘Dougie.’

I reached forward and shook his shoulder, gently at first, then harder. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to wake him. I only knew that I didn’t like being alone. I told myself that I wanted to talk to him, to see how he felt, what other symptoms he had, but I wasn’t entirely sure that was true.

‘Dougie!’

Emma mewled quietly, rolling over in her sleep, but I wasn’t interested in her. I stared down at Dougie, as if I could wake him with the power of my mind. It seemed to work. His eyelids fluttered then opened completely. At first his gaze was unfocused, confused. Then he looked up at me and I watched awareness dawn.

‘Is it morning?’ he croaked. I was alarmed to hear a deep rasp as he churned the words out.

‘Sort of,’ I said quietly.

He looked around him, took in the drab light, Emma’s still, sleeping form.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

I chewed the inside of my cheek as I considered him.

‘How do you feel?’ I asked.

‘What?’

‘How do you feel?’

‘I feel …’ He thought about it. ‘Freezing.’ As soon as he spoke the words he started burrowing down deeper into his sleeping bag. ‘Why is it so cold in here?’

It wasn’t. Not really. The air in the tent was rapidly warming in tandem with the morning sun outside.

‘It’s not,’ I replied, my heart sinking. I did not want Dougie to get sick right now.

‘It is,’ he disagreed. ‘Where’s my jumper?’

Wordlessly I handed it to him, watched as he sat up and started wriggling his way inside it, his whole body shivering as it was momentarily exposed to the air.

‘Urgh.’ He clutched his head then flopped back down to the air mattress.

‘What is it?’

‘Dizzy,’ he said, one hand still stretched across his forehead.

‘You’re sick,’ I said. For some reason I had to say it out loud.

‘I’m not,’ Dougie told me. ‘I’m fine.’ But even as he spoke he was trying to retreat further into the heat of his sleeping bag.

‘How’s your ankle?’

Dougie made a speculative face and I heard a quiet rustling beside me as he experimented with his foot. After half a second he stopped abruptly and his expression twisted.

‘Sore,’ he admitted.

‘Let me see it,’ I pressed.

‘In a bit,’ Dougie said, pulling his covers up higher, looking at me defensively. He shivered again.

I studied him closely. As the light slowly brightened, his skin was looking worse and worse. He was pale, slightly jaundiced. After another convulsive shudder he swallowed and wrinkled his nose.

‘You all right?’

He didn’t answer but a moment later he was in motion. Despite having baulked before at the idea of emerging from his cocoon, now he was fighting his way free, thrashing and pulling at the sleeping bag, rocketing upright, heedless of his damaged ankle. I watched, confused, as he tore out of the tent, then just seconds later I heard the sounds of retching and coughing. He was throwing up.

I swallowed back my own nausea – nothing to do with Dougie’s illness – and followed him outside. I grabbed a bottle of water from the now ice-less cooler before I rounded the tent to where he was hunkered over in the grass.

‘Thanks,’ he gasped as I twisted the top off and handed him the bottle. He took a deep swig then spat a mouthful of water down on top of the contents of his stomach. ‘I’m fine,’ he promised. ‘You don’t have to watch me.’

The smell of his vomit was bitter and acidic, but I didn’t leave him. If he was running a fever he might pass out. Instead I waited while he took slow, measured sips of water, breathing shallowly and evenly, trying not to chuck it back up. Eventually he felt well enough to move and I helped him to his feet, shoving my shoulder under his arm as a crutch as he limped back towards the blackened circle that was our fire pit. Emma still hadn’t emerged. Through the hanging tent flap I could just make out her huddled form. I wasn’t sure whether to wake her or not, unsure what kind of state she would be in. She’d been hysterical the night before, right up until the drowsy meds had kicked in.

‘Do you feel like eating anything?’ I asked Dougie as he flopped into one of the chairs. He shook his head, looking green. Tugging the collar of his jumper up around his neck, he slumped down and continued to take tentative mouthfuls from the bottle of water.

Just for something to do, I pulled out a rice cracker and started to nibble on the end. I wasn’t really hungry, though, and before I’d eaten half of it I threw it down into the hole, thinking it’d be burned up by the fire or eaten by a scavenging bird if we’d lit our last flame on the beach.

‘Do you think we should take Emma with us?’ Dougie asked, pulling me out of my reverie.

I blinked, stared at him as I considered his words.

‘We can’t leave her here on her own,’ I said. Then I took a deep breath. ‘Are
you
going to be able to make it out of here?’

‘Yes.’ Dougie responded at once; his tone decisive, his face set. I kept my scepticism firmly off my face. ‘As soon as Emma’s up. That’s when we’ll go.’ He was looking at the waves as he said this and I couldn’t help the feeling that he was trying to convince himself, not me.

Emma didn’t show any sign of rising and after watching Dougie spend twenty minutes almost getting a crick in his neck turning round every three seconds to stare at her, I took pity on him, curled myself out of my chair and headed for the tent.

‘Emma,’ I called. ‘Emma, are you awake?’

She didn’t respond but I didn’t believe she was still sleeping. She was too motionless, her position in the sleeping bag too tense. Just peeking out above the deep blue of the bag her shoulders were hunched up, hiding her neck from view. I knelt down on the air mattress beside her. The transfer of air shifted her body, but she still didn’t move a muscle.

‘Emma,’ I said again. I laid a hand on her shoulder. She twitched under my touch, lifted her shoulders up even higher. ‘I know you’re awake.’

She sighed, twisted round in slow motion. Her eyes gazed at me, huge glassy orbs. I knew she was thinking about yesterday, about Darren, but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know whether to bring it up, to ask her about it. Would she just repeat her crazy story about the monster that lived under the waves?

I tried to smile.

‘Come on, we’re going to get out of here. We’ll hike up to the main road, find a house or flag down a car. You need to get changed, grab something to eat. Then we’ll go.’

Emma had gone to sleep in last night’s clothes but I hoped something as routine as getting dressed would help snap her back to reality. She probably wouldn’t eat, but I thought I should suggest it. For some reason I felt like the adult, even though I was the youngest. But with Dougie ill and Emma gone la-la, I was somehow in charge. I didn’t like it, but there wasn’t much choice.

Emma changed her clothes in slow motion, obediently putting on whatever I held out to her. She was like a zombie, her face completely unanimated. We didn’t speak. When she was fully dressed I gestured that she should move outside and she did so, shuffling her feet like an old age pensioner.

Dougie wasn’t on the beach.

For a moment my heart froze and I was gripped by a sudden panic, but then I heard coughing, spluttering. He was back in the long grass, hunched over, throwing up the water he’d drunk. Between him and the chair he’d been sitting in was a series of mismatched footprints, the tracks on the left dragging where he’d limped along. He was lopsided even as he vomited, holding his injured ankle gingerly just above the ground.