Wake by Elizabeth Knox Page A

said. ‘It was only half full, and my party checked out when I did.’
    â€˜Were they in the helicopter?’ Theresa asked.
    William nodded. ‘Didn’t they get away?’
    â€˜No. Sorry.’
    William looked sober, but not cut-up. Bub guessed his ‘party’ weren’t actual friends—as George had been Bub’s friend.
    â€˜So, William?’ Theresa recalled his attention to her. ‘Can you be told what to do?’
    He laughed. ‘Not really.’
    â€˜How about you go check out the spa? Take Bub.’
    â€˜Sure.’
    Theresa looked from face to face, her gaze firm and steadying. ‘Are we all set?’
    â€˜What can I do?’ Lily asked.
    â€˜Perhaps you can help me with my wife,’ said Curtis. ‘She’s here on the boat. If no one comes in the next few days we’ll have to bury Adele. I want to be able to choose a good place. And I want her with me till then.’
    Lily looked scared, but said, ‘Yes, of course.’
    â€˜Are we all ready?’ Theresa repeated. Bub saw how she made sure to meet every eye. The survivors made signs of assent. They braced themselves.
    â€˜Bub and I will clear as many—’ William hesitated, then got a haughty look and went on as if delicacy were contemptible, ‘—bodies as we can before you arrive.’
    â€˜Good.’ Theresa told Bub to fire up his engine and take them in to shore.
    Sam and Jacob parked the Captiva beside the unfinished visitor’s centre, about a hundred metres from the predator-proof fence. A small woman in a Department of Conservation uniform was waiting at the gate of the reserve. ‘Sam and Jacob,’ she said. ‘I’m Belle. Theresa called me to say you were on your way. Before we leave, I should quickly fill the hopper.’
    â€˜Okay,’ Jacob said, not knowing what the hopper was.
    â€˜You can come with me if you like.’
    They stepped inside the gate and Belle restored its padlock. Belle was a little pale, but she looked untouched. Jacob had onlyhad brief glimpses of yesterday’s mayhem. He may not have seen the worst of it—like Lily, William, Sam, and Theresa, all of whom had bloodstained clothes. But he had entered the No-Go, had felt it wipe the vitality out of every cell in his body, so he did have a feeling for the non-negotiable strangeness of the trouble they were in. Looking at Belle he could see that she hadn’t quite got it yet. He didn’t resent that. In fact Belle’s businesslike ordinariness soothed him, and he was content to follow her up the track through the glistening bush. Sam obediently tagged along after them. They stopped at the shed and Belle picked up a bag of feed. Then they all went on up the hill. Before they’d gone far Belle stopped them and said, ‘Shhh,’ and, after a moment, Jacob saw the hunched green shape of a kakapo.
    The bird stood on the trail ahead of them, peering at the ground. It was large, rounded, big-headed, and its feathers were several shades of green, some dulcet, some vivid, and some tipped black, as if they’d been flocked with black velvet. The kakapo stretched out a claw to pick up a twig and move it from his path. Then, path cleared, he moved on—still stooped and peering.
    Belle whispered, ‘That’s Tutira. He’s very stealthy. He hates to make any noise when he’s walking.’
    They waited till the bird had passed out of sight, then went on to a sunny clearing dusted with tobacco-brown beech leaves. A plastic hopper stood in the centre of the clearing, above a timber feeding trough. There was another kakapo perched on the hopper, dozing in the sun. This one was even bigger, and had a venerable halo of whiskers, like an Amish patriarch.
    â€˜This is the All-Father,’ Belle said. ‘He’s fathered fifty chicks and he’s so old we don’t even know how old he is.’ Belle ripped open a bag of feed and