Poison Bay Read Online Free PDF Page A

acknowledge her presence, but continued addressing Adam. “If we turned back, do you think you could find the way?”
    “The Northern Territory is nothing like here,” Adam said. “Maybe I’d find the way back, or maybe we’d cross into the wrong valley and go round in circles for weeks. Sharon wouldn’t cope with that, and Rachel would run out of insulin. That rain is unbelievable. It destroys our tracks.”  
    Jack sighed, and shrugged.
    Adam said, “Today is the half-way point. Maybe we’re better off sticking with Bryan.”
    ***
    On Day Seven, the issue became more urgent when Sharon fell and struggled to get up again.
    This time, Erica joined the huddle. “Sharon needs to be airlifted out of here,” she said. “At the very least, she needs a rest day.”
    Callie nodded. “Somehow, we need to get Bryan to listen. He doesn’t understand what it’s like to be us.”
    Jack said, “But if we all gang up on him, he’ll probably dig his heels in.”
    Adam said, “How about you and I go talk to him, Jack?”
    Callie stayed beside Erica and watched what followed, trying not to be too obvious. Bryan kept his arms folded across his chest as the deputation made its case.
    When the men returned to them, Adam shrugged in frustration. “He says a helicopter wouldn’t be authorized unless her condition was life-threatening. And the best thing to do for her is to get to where we’re going.”
    Jack said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he pushes us even harder now.”
    Erica huffed. “Why don’t you guys just hold him down while Callie and I dig that damn satellite phone out of his rucksack.” Her face was red with anger.
    Callie’s eyes went to the rucksack in question, and she saw the others looking too. But nobody acted.

6

    Single file, they trudged along a gritty beach under a sky the color of hammered pewter. It was almost over.  
    In the middle of the line-up, Callie’s ankle throbbed from a twisting skid on moss. She’d lost so much weight in the past ten days that her clothes were loose. This had thrilled her, one consolation on the dismal “holiday”. But now she’d consider trading a kidney for a greasy plate of hot chips.  
    A hot shower. A steak. A soft bed. Soon.
    Ahead, Rachel was taking her turn to support Sharon as she limped along valiantly. They’d redistributed most of her load.
    The final challenge was to make their boat connection in time to beat the storm building offshore. Rolling swells heaved onto the beach and sucked back out into the long horseshoe-shaped bay, its sides steep and dark. They’d begun at a lake and finished at the ocean, water to water.  
    Bryan turned to look back at the group. “Hurry. We must reach our target by eight o’clock.”
    Callie guessed they must have hiked two or three kilometers along the waterline, from sand to shingle and now jagged rocks, and yet the headland where the bay met the ocean seemed just as far away. Her thighs were strong after so many days of trekking, and yet they ached from the long descent. Her sore ankle notified her of every false step on the haphazard surface.  
    “How will they ever get us on a boat in this sea?” she said to Adam behind her.  
    “They can’t. We’ll have to find somewhere to camp for the night and hope they come back in the morning.”  
    “So why do we keep on marching like maniacs?”
    “Because when Bryan says march, we march. That’s the way it works, apparently. I don’t care anymore.”
    Bryan strode onwards, surefooted through fallen boulders and striated granite. They followed numbly, dipping close to the waterline, skidding on the slime. He led them in a last exhausting upward scramble onto a huge, elevated slab of granite that jutted out into the water, moved confidently to the seaward edge and turned to face them. Glancing over her shoulder, Callie checked that Jack’s camera was rolling as he clambered up behind the others. He had it clamped in the head-strap, and nodded at