Those Who Perish by Emma Viskic

Author:Emma Viskic
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pushkin Press
Published: 2022-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

The clifftop was empty when he arrived. He parked by the old fence, got out. Ant had probably gone down to the beach to keep their gruesome find safe. No reason to think he’d panicked, was halfway back to the mainland.

Caleb set off along the fence, running too fast for the terrain. Slowed to climb a fallen section by a gnarled tea-tree.

Heat splintered his face. Trunk and branch shredded.

Down on the ground, arms over his head. No thought, body moving before his brain caught up. Pressed low in the grass, heart pounding, legs tangled in the fence wire. Where the hell was the sniper? No hills, no high points.

Ant.

Bleeding, dying, dead.

Caleb lifted his head. ‘Ant! You there?’ Only the bone-coloured grass rippling across the ground. Hadn’t heard him, that’s all. Voice probably didn’t carry very far outside. He raised himself higher. ‘Ant!’

Shrapnel sprayed above him, slivers of wood peppering his neck and head. Down again, cheek pressed to the spikey grass. Couldn’t just lie here. Had to move, help, do something.

Faint beats beneath him. Stomach-lurching fear, but the vibration wasn’t footsteps, just the fence wire moving against his thigh. Steady pattern, as though someone was tugging it. One-two-three, stop. One-two-three, stop. Wilting relief. Smart, very smart. Always said his brother was the smart one.

He scrambled around, gripped the wire with both hands. ‘One for yes, two for no,’ he yelled.

A single beat.

‘You OK?’

Slight delay, then a yes. That hesitation was a concern. Hurt but not badly? Obviously clear-headed enough to think of the fence, make his way to it from wherever he’d been sheltering.

‘You close?’

Another yes.

‘To the east?’ No response. For fuck’s sake – Ant and his lack of directional knowledge. Caleb tried again. ‘Use a clock face. If the cliff is six o’clock, are you at three?’

Yes.

A quick look, still no sign of him.

‘Where’s the sniper?’ He went through the same routine, got a solid yes for a south-west position.

Good news, a rise in the land between them. Be safe if he stayed low, let the swaying grass disguise his movements. Hopefully.

‘OK, I’m coming.’ Caleb stopped. Unlikely someone with a rifle would need to lure him closer, but it didn’t hurt to be sure. ‘Safety check. Is Mrs Naylor a cat?’

No.

Maybe a double verification. ‘A cow?’

Instant yes.

He dragged himself across the ground on his stomach, braced for the slam of the bullet. Sting of sweat in his eyes, rocks and burrs biting. Nearly fell on top of Ant as the land gave way in a sudden fold.

‘Took you long enough,’ Ant said while Caleb untangled himself.

Sitting half-propped against the embankment, shaking, skin like parchment. One arm wrapped around his ribs, pink shirt stained red beneath it. Shot. How much blood had he lost?

Caleb scrambled upright, shrugged off his jacket to get to his T-shirt for a makeshift bandage.

‘It’s OK,’ Ant signed. ‘Almost stopped bleeding.’ Sweat rolled down his forehead, splashed onto his Hawaiian shirt.

Going into shock. Caleb gripped his T-shirt hem, went to lift it.

Ant kicked his ankle. Hard. ‘Seriously.

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