Nick did most of the talking, with Matt on hand to embellish. I just nodded every now and then. All I wanted to do was get away from these two. But try as I might, I couldn’t work out how we could. I mentally listed our escape options. There was the sea, which was obviously out of the question, and then cliffs that bordered the beach and scrub similarly to the beach we’d made camp on.
The stream cut the beach almost perfectly in half. On the far side there was a wide expanse of sand before a rocky point at the end of the beach. There might be a way over the rocks, but it could just as easily be a dead-end, and there would be no way of telling until we got there.
On the near side of the stream, behind the camp, a thick scrub-covered gully went from the beach to the top of the cliff. Nestled between the crevices in the cliff, it looked like a thin green ribbon laid over the red brown rock. It would be a steep, slow climb up there. That left only one real option: back the way we had come. A hundred-metre dash across the sand.
Zaffar noisily slurped the last of his tea and placed his mug on the ground before heading back into the tent. Desperate for a leak, I wandered over to a bush just off to the side of the camp. Then something caught my eye. Tucked behind the tents, almost hidden from view, was a stack of cardboard boxes. There must have been at least eight of them, all lined up neatly. On each box there was writing in a language I couldn’t read. I craned my neck to get a better look, but before I could see anything else, a giant shadow appeared beside me. I turned my back and tried to ignore the sound of a stream of piss hitting the sand behind me, and finished up as quickly as I could. When Baldy was done, he pulled out another smoke, lit it and strolled a few metres away as I made my way back to the others.
As soon as Baldy turned his back, George grabbed Nick’s arm and leant in close. ‘We were so worried about you,’ she whispered earnestly. I could read in her eyes that she really was genuinely worried.
‘Not that worried,’ I corrected, grumpily.
Nick glanced at me, then back at George. He shrugged dismissively. ‘No need to be.’
‘Why did you just wander off like that?’ she continued, with a furtive look over her shoulder.
‘Couldn’t sleep.’
George grunted, clearly frustrated by his answer. But I knew Nick. If he wasn’t in a mood to talk there was no way she was going to make him.
‘Where’d you come across these two?’ I whispered.
He nodded towards the far end of the beach. ‘I was over there. They just appeared behind me, out of nowhere. They told me they’re here to fish. Well, that’s total crap. No-one comes to fish on this side of the island. There are a thousand better places.’
‘There’s something else that’s really weird,’ I whispered. ‘A whole pile of boxes, behind the tent.’
‘What sort of boxes?’ murmured Nick.
‘I can’t read what it says on them. But it doesn’t look like your average camping supplies.’
George looked puzzled. ‘So if they’re not fishing, what are they doing here?’
I glanced anxiously at the big bald guy and the cigarette dangling on his lip. It was easy to imagine him standing at the top of the cliff, smoking and watching us with
The Dolphin
the day before, then dropping the butt I had found on the path and squashing it into the sandy soil with his boot.
‘So what do we do?’ I said in an even softer whisper.
‘Well, for a start, I’m going to tell them we’re leaving,’ Nick said, decisively. ‘Guess we’ll see what happens then.’
George looked worried. I was used to Nick’s decisiveness being more than matched by his impulsiveness, but I could tell George was still trying to make sense of what was going on. Nick was moving too fast for her. She reached for his arm and was about to say something when Zaffar pushed through the tent flap. He was holding up two cans of soup. ‘A choice,’ he said, reading the labels, ‘vegetable or pumpkin?’
‘Actually, we’d better be getting back,’ said Nick looking skyward. ‘It’ll be getting dark soon.’
Zaffar pulled a face like he’d been sorely offended. ‘No, no. Please, you must stay tonight.’ He smiled at George in a way that made my skin crawl. ‘Young lady, you have my tent. You boys, sleep out here. A perfect night for it, yes?’
‘Thanks,’ Nick said, smiling. ‘But we don’t want to put you out. Besides, we’ve got all our gear back at camp.’
Zaffar took a couple of steps towards Nick. ‘You can get it in the morning, no?’ he said, his eyes fixing on Nick’s. ‘We’ll give you a hand.’
There was something in the tone of his voice that made my pulse quicken.
‘Look, Mr Zaffar, that’s very generous,’ Nick said, placing his mug on the ground, ‘but really, we’ll be fine.’
As he straightened, Zaffar moved closer again until he was standing right in front of Nick, almost toe to toe. ‘But my friend. I must insist.’
It was no longer an invitation. It was an order. Nick stood taller, chest out, his eyes fixed on Zaffar. George and I stood close behind him. I shot a glance at Matt. He was still sitting in the deckchair, head back, Coke in hand, seemingly oblivious to the stand-off.
I became acutely aware of everything around me. A gull squawked as it circled above. A powerful wave broke on the shore with a dull crash. A cricket chirped in the grass. But then the sound of my heart thumping filled my head and pushed all other sounds aside.
Neither Nick nor Zaffar spoke or moved for a few more seconds. Then Zaffar stepped away. He reached behind his back and in an unhurried, almost nonchalant movement, he pulled out a small, dark gun. He aimed it directly at the centre of Nick’s forehead.
‘Sorry, Nicky. I really do insist.’
Nick stared defiantly at the barrel of the gun only centimetres from his face. My eyes were fixed on the bony finger curling around the trigger and the thrumming in my head kicked into overdrive.
‘I ask you only once,’ Zaffar said, calmly. ‘Sit down.’
George’s jaw was set firmly, but I could see the terror in her eyes. It was probably the same terror I had in my own.
Reluctantly, Nick sat down on the grass. George reached for his hand and clasped it tightly in her lap. For a completely illogical, crazy second, my stomach squeezed at the sight of his hand in hers. Then I came to my senses again.
The bald guy stormed over to Zaffar, suddenly animated and speaking furiously in a language I couldn’t identify. Zaffar, just as agitated, argued back. He waved the gun around like a conductor with a baton.
Finally he barked in English, ‘Stay here and watch them, yes? Can you at least do that?’
Then he stormed off into the tent. Seconds later, he emerged with the satellite phone, punching numbers into its keypad.
‘So much for the flat battery,’ Nick muttered as Zaffar began speaking excitedly into the phone.
‘A gun!’ George hissed. ‘He pointed a gun at you!’
Nick raised an eyebrow wryly. ‘Yeah, I got that. Man, I knew something wasn’t right about them.’
‘But a gun!’ whispered George. ‘I mean, who are they?’
‘Bank robbers? Drug runners? Who knows? Maybe they’re just a couple of mates playing gangsters,’ replied Nick tetchily.
‘We’ve gotta get out of here,’ I said, stating the obvious.
Nick scratched the back of his neck. ‘Open to ideas.’
Zaffar turned back towards us. The gun was tucked into the front of his pants, its handle intentionally visible. He seemed to have regained some composure but the insincere smile had vanished, replaced by a hard stare devoid of any emotion.
‘Listen,’ he told us, ‘I have no reason to harm you. I don’t. But if you give me a reason, any reason at all, it will not end well for you. Yes?’ He paused. ‘Good. We understand each other –’
The shrill ring of the phone interrupted him mid-sentence. As Zaffar turned away and moved off down the beach, Baldy pulled up a chair next to Matt.
Matt looked shell-shocked by it all. He edged uneasily away from Baldy.
At that moment, George stood up and dusted the sand from her shorts, clearing her throat. ‘Um, excuse me. I need to go to the bathroom.’
‘Sit,’ grunted Baldy, waving her down.
George shifted uncomfortably from side to side. ‘Look, I’ll just go behind that bush,’ she said, pointing to a shrub no more than ten metres away.
Baldy glanced down the beach. Zaffar was a good way off listening intently on the phone. He could neither offer approval, nor overrule.
‘Fast, yes?’ Baldy relented. ‘And stay where I can see you.’
George shot him an indignant look. ‘It’s not a spectator sport,’ she said.
‘Just go …’
With the grace of a ballerina exiting the stage, George ran over to the bush and crouched down, disappearing from sight.
As soon as she did, Baldy must have realised he had made a mistake. His eyes swivelled between the bush and his partner on the beach. As he watched, Zaffar turned and began to walk back in our direction. Baldy heaved himself from the chair and headed for the bush.
Nick rose to his feet. ‘Give her some privacy, you meathead.’
Baldy stopped and turned to Nick. ‘What did you say?’
‘You heard.’
Baldy stepped towards Nick, who stiffened but didn’t back down.
‘What is it?’ barked Zaffar as he entered the camp. ‘Where’s the girl?’
‘She go to bathroom,’ Baldy said gruffly, pointing at the bush.
‘Fool! Go and get her,’ Zaffar said, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘Get out here, girl!’ he yelled. But there was no reply and no sign of movement in the bushes.
Slowly, reluctantly, Baldy backed away from Nick and loped towards the bush.
‘Don’t play with us, girl,’ Zaffar snarled angrily, pulling the gun from his waistband.
He turned on Matt, hoisting him by the arm out of his chair. Matt looked startled as Zaffar held him in front of him. Zaffar clipped him on the side of the head with the gun in one swift movement, and Matt squawked in pain, slumping forward. But Zaffar jerked him up by his hair.
Nick stepped closer, his fists raised.
‘Just try me, Nicky,’ Zaffar hissed. ‘If I have to tell you to sit one more time, you’ll hear more than that small little yell.’
Baldy’s voice came from the bush. ‘She not here.’
Zaffar’s eyes scanned the bushes and the cliff, looking for any sign of movement. He cupped one hand around his mouth and called out. ‘Girl, I’m going to count to five. If you’re not out, things are going to get very bad, very quickly …’
A shrill squeal rang out from deep in the scrub. A flock of startled birds shot into the air, followed by another scream that was definitely George. ‘Get it off me, get it off me!’
Zaffar’s eyes narrowed. ‘You think I’m a fool?’ he yelled angrily. ‘One …’
‘Help, help me! Get it off!’
‘TWO!’
Nick took a step towards him. ‘She needs help …’
‘Sit down! THREE!’
Nick took another step and Zaffar turned on him. For a second, he loosened his grip on Matt to extend the gun. A second was all Matt needed. He pitched sharply forward and at the same time kicked back hard. With a guttural roar, he spun around, grabbing his captor’s wrist and then biting down on the exposed flesh.
Nick rushed forward, too, slamming his shoulder low and hard into Zaffar. All three fell to the ground, fighting, and the gun jolted free.
Like a thrashing machine, Nick let fly with a flurry of punches. As his arm rained down I saw a rock clutched between his fingers and realised it was the one he pocketed earlier. But Zaffar wasn’t giving up. Not by a long shot. He locked his forearm around Matt’s throat, pulling him closer, strangling him.
Matt squirmed and twisted but couldn’t break free.
While all this was going on, I barely moved. Everything had happened so fast and I felt like I was rooted to the spot. Just as I took a stuttering step forward, Baldy burst through the scrub, his nostrils flared, charging towards us like a bull.
‘Look out,’ I yelled.
Matt heard me. But instead of fighting harder to get free, he pulled Zaffar closer.
‘Go, go … get out of here!’ Matt yelled out.
Nick hesitated, still desperately looking for a way to free Matt, but it was impossible. With one last swipe at Zaffar, Nick stepped back, turned and started to run.