Dead Tree Forest Read Online Free PDF Page B

knew it wasn’t good.
    One thing Chris was sure they would listen to was his knowledge of how to get to the lake. If he chose to, he could lead them straight to it. All he had to do was listen to Ginnumarra’s cries. They would lead him to her.
    That’s unless death claimed them all first.
    Chris considered leading the men in the wrong direction, but decided against doing so, because there was the possibility of helping Ginnumarra. Chris wasn’t sure if he could help her, but since he was in this forest anyway, he figured he may as well try. If he was going to die anyway, he may as well try and put an end to the dead girl’s pain.
    Then there was Ray. Chris felt there was something inside him—a pain, a darkness that was almost equal to Ginnumarra’s. There was also a fierce determination—a determination so strong that at times Ray did remind Chris of a bull.
    He didn’t know why Ray wanted to reach the lake so badly to retrieve the sunken treasure. He knew it wasn’t for monetary gain. There were only dollar signs in the other men’s eyes; but with Ray, there was darkness: darkness with the slightest hint of hope.
    Chris looked around at the forest, at the tall trees like grey withered old men, arms outstretched, waiting for someone to give life back to them; at the black haze that seemed to hover between worlds, not quite fog or mist, but still present, invading the air like termites in the walls of a house. He listened to the wavering, almost ethereal cries, like the howl of a wind. Except there was no wind in here; there was nothing—no birds, no snakes, not even flies or mosquitoes. This was a place of death.
    Ginnumarra, Chris thought. Please, stop your crying. I will try and help you. I am sorry for what happened. But please, if there is any way you can put an end to this curse, I implore you to do it.
    Chris waited; he got no answer.
    Just more crying.
    And he wondered—what was going to happen to them? What curse had Ginnumarra placed on this forest?
    Chris was considering these questions when another cry rang out. One very real and very human.
    * * *
    “Holy shit, would you look at this!” Nathan cried.
    Ray stopped and turned around. About a metre back, Nathan, a thick tree branch wedged between his thighs, was fixated on something he was holding in his right hand. His expression was frozen between dumbstruck and fear.
    “Well? What the hell’s the matter?” Brian said and coughed.
    Nathan dropped the branch to the ground and then he jogged over to Ray and Brian. “I was thinking how cold and dark it was in here,” he said breathlessly, “that it would be good to have some light, you know? A torch, like in them old movies when the villagers are chasing some monster through town. So I stopped and picked up a branch, thinking I could set it alight and then we’d have more light and warmth.”
    “Brilliant idea,” Brian said. “You’d not only burn yourself, but probably set the whole goddamn forest on fire.”
    Nathan frowned at his brother.
    In the shadowy confines of the forest, Nathan’s eyes held a maturity that Ray had never seen before in the young dope. Also, the shadows made him look older, like he had aged five years in the last five minutes.
    “So, what’s the problem?” Ray prodded.
    “Well, when I tried to light Brian’s lighter, I couldn’t.”
    Brian cackled. “That’s it? You stopped to tell us you’re too stupid to light my Bic? Hell, I could’ve told you that.”
    “No, no,” Nathan said. “It’s not that I couldn’t light it, the Bic wouldn’t light. See?” He brought up his right arm. Clasped in his hand was his brother’s red Bic lighter.
    Nathan flicked the spark wheel with his thumb. A flame burst alight, but a moment later, it was snuffed out.
    He repeated the act three more times; each time the flame was vanquished the moment it appeared.
    “Well now that is weird,” Brian said, voice unusually soft. “There’s no wind. Here, let me