but she is removing her seatbelt, foot
planted on the accelerator and their speed building with each passing
second. He tries calling out to her, telling her not to do it, to stay
with him, but her focus is on the approaching bridge spanning the
motorway. He screams her name again and she is smiling now, not at him,
but at the bridge support looming large. He tries to reach across to her
but his own seatbelt is so tight that he can’t move a muscle.
“DINA!”
With that final scream the dream ends, a
split second before they crash headlong into the concrete pillar.
“Dina was someone I knew once,” he
said. “It was a long time ago.”
“The name's familiar,” she said, curiosity
once more etched on her face.
“It's not that unusual. I went to
school with three girls called Dina,” Grant lied. He could see Vick
racking her brains for a glimmer of recollection but he wasn't about to help
her. Instead he stood and did some stretches to try to eliminate of some
of the muscle knots he had accumulated during the night. In the distance
he heard the sound of a light aircraft, and moments later his captors began
shouting for everyone to move to cover. Grant followed everyone's lead
and jogged into the trees. He squatted down, head up in search of the
plane. It passed over a minute later, a single-engine Cessna T41-B.
“They fly over every few days,” Moore
told him nervously.
“Yeah, and every time they fly over we
get attacked a few hours later,” Halton added.
Grant ignored the morale officer's
whining and considered how he could turn this to his advantage. In the
undergrowth he searched around for something that could be used as a weapon and
found the perfect item — a twig the thickness of his thumb with a point at one
end where it had been cut from a tree. It even had a growth on either
side, so his hand wouldn't slip down the shaft when he used it. He
slipped the eight-inch shiv into his sock and pulled his pant leg over it for
concealment, careful to make sure no-one noticed his movements.
Once the sound of the engines died away,
Bong instructed everyone to get up and start packing away, seemingly desperate
to leave the immediate area. Even though trees had been cut down to make
the clearing, they were only the younger plants — the canopy overhead remained
in place, just as it had in the other camps they had forged. Grant thought it
unlikely that they would have been spotted from the air, but the others
obviously had differing opinions and their eyes scanned the jungle as they
stuffed possessions into their packs, weapons always close at hand.
Within ten minutes they were on the move
again, and Grant tried to keep pace with Dindo while at the same time trying
not to make it too obvious. It meant Halton had to move at the same
speed, which did nothing for his demeanour.
Grant found it unnerving that now and
again Vick would turn and look at him with a puzzled expression, and he
wondered how close she was to guessing his true identity. Given the
current situation it might not be that big a problem, he thought, especially if
she didn't make it out of the jungle. However, if she managed to secure
her release and shared the news with others, he knew Farrar would make him
disappear again, but this time permanently.
After five hours they were within
smelling distance of the sea and Grant thought his wish was going to come true
when Bong ordered everyone to make camp. Through a gap in the trees he
could see the beach about half a click away, a sheltered cove with a golden,
sandy beach. He was thankful that there was no sign of a boat, adding to his
hope that they would wait until dark to transfer to the next island.
As a fire was prepared and rice thrown
into a pot he realised how hungry he was, but was more intent on scanning the
surrounding jungle for signs of anyone approaching. Whether it was the
AFP or his two friends, he wanted to be close to one of his
planted on the accelerator and their speed building with each passing
second. He tries calling out to her, telling her not to do it, to stay
with him, but her focus is on the approaching bridge spanning the
motorway. He screams her name again and she is smiling now, not at him,
but at the bridge support looming large. He tries to reach across to her
but his own seatbelt is so tight that he can’t move a muscle.
“DINA!”
With that final scream the dream ends, a
split second before they crash headlong into the concrete pillar.
“Dina was someone I knew once,” he
said. “It was a long time ago.”
“The name's familiar,” she said, curiosity
once more etched on her face.
“It's not that unusual. I went to
school with three girls called Dina,” Grant lied. He could see Vick
racking her brains for a glimmer of recollection but he wasn't about to help
her. Instead he stood and did some stretches to try to eliminate of some
of the muscle knots he had accumulated during the night. In the distance
he heard the sound of a light aircraft, and moments later his captors began
shouting for everyone to move to cover. Grant followed everyone's lead
and jogged into the trees. He squatted down, head up in search of the
plane. It passed over a minute later, a single-engine Cessna T41-B.
“They fly over every few days,” Moore
told him nervously.
“Yeah, and every time they fly over we
get attacked a few hours later,” Halton added.
Grant ignored the morale officer's
whining and considered how he could turn this to his advantage. In the
undergrowth he searched around for something that could be used as a weapon and
found the perfect item — a twig the thickness of his thumb with a point at one
end where it had been cut from a tree. It even had a growth on either
side, so his hand wouldn't slip down the shaft when he used it. He
slipped the eight-inch shiv into his sock and pulled his pant leg over it for
concealment, careful to make sure no-one noticed his movements.
Once the sound of the engines died away,
Bong instructed everyone to get up and start packing away, seemingly desperate
to leave the immediate area. Even though trees had been cut down to make
the clearing, they were only the younger plants — the canopy overhead remained
in place, just as it had in the other camps they had forged. Grant thought it
unlikely that they would have been spotted from the air, but the others
obviously had differing opinions and their eyes scanned the jungle as they
stuffed possessions into their packs, weapons always close at hand.
Within ten minutes they were on the move
again, and Grant tried to keep pace with Dindo while at the same time trying
not to make it too obvious. It meant Halton had to move at the same
speed, which did nothing for his demeanour.
Grant found it unnerving that now and
again Vick would turn and look at him with a puzzled expression, and he
wondered how close she was to guessing his true identity. Given the
current situation it might not be that big a problem, he thought, especially if
she didn't make it out of the jungle. However, if she managed to secure
her release and shared the news with others, he knew Farrar would make him
disappear again, but this time permanently.
After five hours they were within
smelling distance of the sea and Grant thought his wish was going to come true
when Bong ordered everyone to make camp. Through a gap in the trees he
could see the beach about half a click away, a sheltered cove with a golden,
sandy beach. He was thankful that there was no sign of a boat, adding to his
hope that they would wait until dark to transfer to the next island.
As a fire was prepared and rice thrown
into a pot he realised how hungry he was, but was more intent on scanning the
surrounding jungle for signs of anyone approaching. Whether it was the
AFP or his two friends, he wanted to be close to one of his
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