MIRACLE ON KAIMOTU ISLAND/ALWAYS THE HERO (23 page)

Maybe he’d coped with any sense of missing out by the adrenaline rush of danger that had always garnered attention. Being made a fuss of was a kind of love, wasn’t it? That mechanism had started too early to remember, as well, but there was a photograph around of the cast he’d had on his broken arm when he’d fallen out of a tree, aged only two.

His mischief as a youngster had been the stuff of family legend. His exploits as an adult, after he’d discovered that taking risks was deemed far more acceptable if they were taken on behalf of others, attracted just as much attention. And all the women in his life had applauded his career, the same way that Abby had at the beginning of their relationship. Most of them, of the same ilk as Fizz, had urged him on to greater accomplishments. Bigger risks.

Because it wouldn’t have mattered that much if he didn’t come back?

Now Tom had another weird squeezing thing going on in his gut. Pretty much like the first one. He could see it wasn’t pride, now. It was more a self-esteem thing. Feeling important. Not for the heroic or dangerous things you did for a job but simply because of who you were.

It was definitely a weird sensation and it was new but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

‘Almost there, Tank.’ Moz was slowing the chopper. ‘This looks like the first landslide coming up.’

Another glance down and Tom was again struck by the wildness of the landscape below.

He heard Abby’s gasp as the bus came into view.

‘Target sighted,’ Moz said. ‘We’ll go around and get lower. Turning downwind.’

Abby’s tension was palpable now, over and above the vibration of the helicopter. Every fibre of her being was focused on seeing her child. Making sure he was safe. Holding him in her arms, maybe.

Tom closed his eyes in a long blink. Imagine someone caring so much about you that they took you to the most isolated place they could find to try and keep you safe?

Was Jack a lucky kid?

Or was he being suffocated?

He wouldn’t want his son to grow up to be a sissy. Was he a frail kid? Was that why Abby was so worried? Maybe he wore glasses and kept his nose buried in a book all day or too close to a computer screen for hours at a time.

Well...if that was the case, maybe Jack
did
need a father figure in his life. Maybe he wasn’t too late to step up to that mark after all.

The chopper was much lower now. Hovering. It was time for Tom to do his job. To open the door and set up the winch to lower the parcel.

‘Checking winch power,’ he announced.

Moz turned on the night sun. They could see the bus and the crowd of children waving up at them. And the adults, who were keeping them well within a safe range. Abby was straining against her safety harness, focusing intently on the brightly lit scene below.

‘Where is he?’ she cried. ‘I can’t see Jack anywhere.’

‘There’s a lot of kids down there.’ Moz sounded as calm as he always did. ‘He’ll be there somewhere. Speed back, Tank. Clear door.’

Abby was shaking her head. ‘I’d see him, I know I would.’

‘He might be inside the bus.’ Tom was turning on the radio clipped to the outside of the blanket bundle. There was no way it could be missed, so they would be able to communicate clearly with the people on the ground within the next few minutes. ‘We’ll know pretty soon. Hang in there, Abby.’

He slid the side door open. ‘Door back and locked,’ he told Moz. ‘Bringing hook inside.’

He attached the hook to the big parcel. ‘Moving box to the door,’ he informed Moz. Now he had to get permission to stand on the skids and control the winching process. ‘Clear skids.’

‘Clear skids,’ Moz confirmed.

He had to make sure the parcel landed safely away from any people, which wasn’t a simple process. Too far one way and the vital supplies, especially the radio, would go over the cliff and into the sea below. Dense bush on the other side of the cliff road could make it impossible for the people to find it in the dark.

There was enough clear road between the landslides, though. Enough to land on, except that it was a risk that wouldn’t be deemed worth taking given the dangers on either side of the narrow road.

Tom watched the distance between the parcel hanging on the end of the winch line and the road below.

‘Minus fifteen,’ he told Moz. ‘Ten...nine...eight...’

And then it was almost on the ground and the attachment was disengaged. Someone was running towards the parcel while others were keeping the children in a close knot beside the bus.

Tom picked up his radio.

‘Hello?’ he called. ‘Hello, hello? Do you read?’

There was silence but he could see a man hunching over the big parcel. Reaching for the radio.

‘Hello?’ Tom tried again. ‘Push the button on the top when you speak.’

A crackling noise came through, along with the end of an unintelligible sentence.

‘Try again,’ Tom directed. ‘Hold the button and keep it down. Can you hear me?’

‘Yes...’ The word was a shout.

‘You have food and blankets. We’re looking at ways of getting you out but it won’t be till daylight, now. Is there anything else you require urgently?’

‘Yes.’

Tom was aware of Abby twisting in her seat. Of her eyes widening. An urgent message was coming silently.

Ask about Jack.... Please, Tom.

‘What’s the problem?’ Tom had to stay professional here. He couldn’t single out a particular child to ask about, even if was his own son.

‘We have a child missing.’ The man had figured out the radio now. ‘He was still in the old copper mine when the quake struck and the walls collapsed at the entrance.’

‘Only one child?’

‘Yes. A teacher has stayed behind. We could hear him calling.’

‘Is he injured?’

‘Don’t think so. Don’t know. We came on the bus to get help and that’s when we got stuck. It’s not far to the mine from here but we decided it was too dangerous to send anyone back. It’s been hours...’

Tom didn’t need to hear how hard it was for Abby to control her breathing right now. He knew the answer to his question before he even asked.

‘Who’s the child?’

‘Jack Miller. He’s only five, poor little guy. Just started school a few weeks ago.’

Tom heard a low oath from Moz underscoring a stifled sob from Abby. He took another look at the stretch of road between the landslips.

The risk might not have been justifiable a few minutes ago but there was no question about it now.

‘Take us down, Moz,’ Tom said quietly. ‘We’re needed here.’

CHAPTER FIVE

A
BBY
 
HELD
 
HER
 
BREATH
as the helicopter came down to land on the narrow road in the dark. She wished she had a hand to hold.

Tom’s hand?

She could see how intently Moz was concentrating on controlling the aircraft so she knew this was not an easy task. It could be that it was actually far more dangerous than she knew. She didn’t want to know. She just wanted to be on the ground.

Moving.

She had to get to Jack. Her own safety was almost irrelevant at this moment.

‘Good job, mate.’ There was a note in Tom’s voice as they touched down and the rotors began to slow that suggested to Abby that she had been right in thinking that this landing had been dangerous. They’d taken a risk here.

Because Tom had suggested it?

Abby’s flash of gratitude was swiftly displaced by the desperate need to get out of the helicopter. To find a way to reach that mine and start searching for Jack. She fumbled with the clasp on her safety harness. It was Tom who reached through from the back and released the catches.

‘Follow me,’ he directed. ‘And keep your head down. The rotors haven’t stopped.’

‘Why not?’ Abby’s head turned sharply back in the pilot’s direction. ‘You’re coming, too, aren’t you, Moz? We need all the help we can get.’

Moz and Tom exchanged a long glance. And then Moz reached to flick some switches and Abby heard the engine noise change. It was shutting down.

‘I’m in.’ Moz nodded. ‘I’ll grab what we’ve got in the way of ropes and stuff. You guys go and get briefed.’

The man who’d retrieved the air-drop parcel and the radio was waiting for them. Dennis Smythe, born and bred on Kaimotu Island, was the senior teacher of the junior school. Usually laid back and well in control of any trouble a bunch of kids could manufacture, he looked anguished right now.

‘Abby, I’m
so
sorry. I can’t believe this has happened to Jack, of all people...’

Words were torn from Abby. ‘
How
did it happen?’

‘We were getting on the bus to come back to school. He was right at the end of the line. Apparently he realised he’d dropped something when we were exploring and he was off like a little rocket back into the mine to try and find it. His teacher, Shelley, tried to stop him but couldn’t so I took off after him, but that was when the quake hit. I...I was thrown off my feet. The kids were all panicking... It was complete chaos for a bit.’

Abby could only nod. She would never forget those interminable seconds of the initial quake. The terror of feeling like the world was in the process of ending.

‘We could hear Jack calling,’ Dennis continued. ‘Just faintly. We couldn’t get inside the entrance because the beams had come down with a ton of rocks and other stuff. We knew we needed help but the phones weren’t working.’

‘The tower came down.’ Abby was trying hard to listen but the information was coming too slowly and there wasn’t enough of it. But she could see how hard this was hitting Dennis and, whatever had happened, it hadn’t been his fault. He’d had the responsibility for a lot of people, most of them children, and she knew he would have done his absolute best.

‘We decided the quickest way to get help would be to take the bus and we needed to get the others to safety, as well. Shelley volunteered to stay at the mine so she could try and talk to Jack and keep him reassured that help was on its way.’

‘What...what was he calling? Is...is he hurt?’

‘Shelley didn’t think so. He was scared, of course. He...he was calling for you, Abby. Calling “Mummy”...’

‘Oh...oh,
God
...’ Abby had to press a hand to her eyes. She felt Tom step closer and felt his arm go around her. The touch was starting to feel familiar again and it was an offer of strength she couldn’t refuse. Abby leaned into him and tried so hard not to give in to the tears that wanted to come that she could feel her whole body trembling.

‘Tell us everything you can,’ Tom instructed. ‘How well do you know this area?’

‘Like the back of my hand,’ Dennis told him. ‘I grew up here, mate. Right below here is the beach that was the best place on the island for some serious surfing. There’s a track that leads down the cliff somewhere close. And a jetty. I reckon we could get these kids out by boat but I wouldn’t try it in the dark. No way.’

‘How do we get to the mine? Along the shore?’

‘No, that wouldn’t work. There’s only one track and you can’t get back up past the bay. I reckon you’ll need to get into the bush and head up. You could clear the slip where it started and then get back down to the road. Couple of kilometres on and you’ll find the road to the mines. It’s signposted. Or it was, anyway...’ Dennis started to rub his forehead. ‘I don’t know if anything’s like it’s supposed to be anymore. What’s happened in town? Has anybody been hurt? I’ve been worried sick about Suzie. She’s pregnant, you know. About three months along.’

Abby took a deep breath. A very deep breath. Dennis and Suzie had married only last year.

‘It’s bad, Dennis, but a lot of help’s arrived from the mainland. Experts, like Tom here. I haven’t seen or heard anything about Suzie but that’s a good thing. It probably means she’s okay. Tom, will the radio work to contact someone like Mike Henley?’

‘Yes. I just need to change the channel being used.’

‘Can you do that now? There must be so many parents who’re desperate to know their children are okay and then...and then can we get going? To the mine?’

It was dark now and Tom’s eyes were dark anyway so Abby shouldn’t have been able to see his expression of complete understanding so easily.

Other parents were desperate, yes, but they were about to find out their children were safe. To be able to talk to them even, maybe.

She was the only one who couldn’t get that reassurance.

Yet.

But there was more than sympathy in that gaze. There was the reassurance that only Tom could give her right now.

We’ll find him, Abby
, the look told her.
We can do this. Everything’s going to be okay.

There had been a point in Abby’s life when she had trusted Tom absolutely. But he had broken that trust when he’d ended their relationship. Broken her heart. Could she believe in him again? Trust what that look was telling her?

Yes, she could. She
had
to.

* * *

Moz had coils of rope over his shoulders and a backpack stuffed with everything else he could find that might be useful.

Tom tightened the straps on his backpack, which contained all the medical supplies they might need.

Abby was given a pack with a couple of blankets and some of the food and water they’d brought there.

They all had hard hats on with lamps that were now glowing. Heavy boots that would help them cope with the terrain. Overalls that would help protect them from superficial injury. And determination that they were going to succeed on this unexpected mission.

They were all grateful for the overalls as they pushed their way uphill through native bush that had a dense undergrowth of scratchy punga ferns. They kept as close as they could to the side of the slip and eventually came to where the land had been shaken loose and had started the slide. The trees above still seemed soundly rooted and gave them a secure passage to the other side and then they had to get down the steep hillside again, slipping frequently and catching themselves on nearby tree trunks. Once, Abby missed a catch and fell, sliding a long way before coming up against a larger fern.

Tom’s heart skipped a beat. He was by her side in seconds, helping her as she struggled back to her feet.

‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine. Keep going, Tom. I’m
fine
.’

She wasn’t. She may not have been injured by the fall but she wasn’t fine. How could she be?

Abby knew her son was in danger. Possibly trapped and hurt. She’d just fought her way up a slope that had been enough to drain Tom’s energy but she’d refused a water stop at the top. She was hurtling downhill now and it would have been that speed and determination that had made her slip in the first place.

But she wasn’t about to stop. Or even slow down, thank you very much.

She was fearless right now. A woman who was going to do whatever it took to save someone she loved. She was staring at him, still radiating that fierce resolve to carry on.

The direct beam of Tom’s headlamp pointed above her head but Abby was bathed in the surrounding circle of light.

She was filthy. Her overalls were splattered with the same mud that streaked her face. The long plait of her blonde hair was coming unravelled and was festooned with twigs and pieces of fern frond. A deep scratch on her cheek was adding blood to the grime. Any vestige of make-up she’d been wearing had long since vanished.

But her eyes shone with determination and an inner strength that Tom had never recognised in Abby. And her lips trembled with a vulnerability that he’d also never known about because she’d kept it so well buried.

At this moment, in possibly the most isolated place in which he’d ever been, Abby Miller was
the
most beautiful woman Tom had ever laid eyes on.

And there was that odd squeezy sensation in his chest again. The same as he’d got in the wake of imagining someone loving him so much they couldn’t bear anything bad happening to him. The same, only different, because it was like he was transmitting that sensation now instead of simply receiving it.

He didn’t want anything bad to happen to Abby. He wanted to protect her.

But he also wanted to cheer her on.

Maybe
this
was pride. He was proud of Abby.

His breath felt ragged as he dragged it in. Was his hand actually shaking as he reached out to check whether that cut on Abby’s cheek needed attention before they carried on?

‘What’s up, Tank?’ Moz’s voice carried easily from a fair way further down the slope. ‘I think I can see the road again.’

* * *

Abby pulled her face away from the touch of Tom’s fingers. With even more of an effort she pulled her gaze away from what she could see in his eyes.

Admiration?

Tenderness, even?

She could have drowned in that look. Just as well, the sound of Moz’s voice carried so clearly.

‘It can wait,’ she told Tom. ‘It’s just a scratch.’

Her knee could wait, too, even though it was hurting badly now. By the time they reached the road it was getting hard to disguise the fact that she couldn’t put her whole weight on that leg. What would Tom do if he saw her limping?

Carry her to where her son was?

Probably.

She couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t let herself be dependent on Tom in any way.

Not physically. And definitely not emotionally. Dear Lord...even under these circumstances, that touch of his fingers on her face had woken memories that had pushed insistently into her mind as she’d walked on.

The way he’d once played with her toes, for example, when they’d been curled up on a couch together, watching television. Idle touching that would morph into a truly excellent foot massage until they both lost interest in the movie and her feet would be neglected in favour of more exciting parts of her body for him to touch.

The way he’d held her head when they’d kissed, with his fingers woven through her hair and pressing onto her scalp.

The way he would lie beside her, when they were both completely naked, usually in the aftermath of making love, and he would use his fingertips so gently. He would trace the entire outline of her body as if he was drawing her shape in sand. Or committing it to memory.

How could a single touch unleash so many memories? Abby had had no idea they were still lurking so close to the surface. She had to bury them and make sure they were deep enough this time. She had to protect herself.

She could do this. Shut the memories away and not react to any touch, accidental or otherwise. And she’d make sure she didn’t start depending on Tom. Not emotionally and not physically.

Not even as a co-parent.

He might think he wanted to get involved in Jack’s life now but how long would that last? How available would he be if some exciting mission came up? What if Jack was holding his breath, waiting for his dad to make an appearance at a school play or a prizegiving and Tom didn’t show up because he’d been called back to work or his helicopter happened to have crashed on that particular day?

Oh...good grief...

Abby allowed enough of her weight to go onto her bad knee to send a sharp twinge right through her body as a kind of wake-up call.

As if she didn’t have enough to worry about right now. Yet here she was, imagining a worst-case scenario for something in a future that wasn’t even on the horizon. Tom hadn’t even met his son. He certainly hadn’t said anything about wanting to be a part of their lives.

They had turned off the main cliff road now, where the signpost to the tourist attraction of the old copper mine was still standing, albeit at a drunken angle.

Maybe it was some kind of a defence mechanism, Abby excused herself. By looking into the future, perhaps she was giving herself the reassurance that they would get through the tension and fear of their present situation.

That Jack would be okay and he’d go on to do a school play or excel at something enough to be deemed worthy of a special prize. Not that she needed him to win any prizes. All she wished for was that her little boy would be safe. And grow up happy.

So why did she invent disasters for the future? Was she incapable of imagining something wonderful?

Like...like Jack getting his first puppy, for instance. His face shining with joy. His dad on the floor beside him, playing with the pup and offering silly suggestions for names. His mum there, too. Taking pictures to add to the family album. Laughing at the puppy’s antics. Knowing that this happy moment would become a treasured memory.

Abby’s breath escaped in something far too close to a sob.