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The Trespass(83)

By:Scott Hunter


“Strewth. I don’t reckon you learned that in the bloody anthropology department...”

Dracup looked up with a start. Halfway down the rockfall, regarding him with a bemused expression on his sunburnt face, was Dan Carey.

“Well don’t just stand there, mate. If you’ve finished practising on old Simba,” he waved a hand vaguely in the lion’s direction, “then may I suggest we make a dignified exit?”

Dracup could have laughed and cried at the same time. He backed away from the lion and seized Carey’s outstretched arm. His legs were an old man’s, his hands trembling like a drunk’s. Dracup leaned on the Kiwi and began to climb the rockfall towards the lip of the pit. The temporary platform created by the blast was treacherous and Dracup felt it slide precariously under his feet, but Carey picked his way expertly up the last few metres, digging his fingertips into the tuff to gain a handhold. Presently his head appeared over the lip of the crater and he stretched a muscular arm down to Dracup. Dracup felt himself hauled over the edge and soon lay splayed out on the shale and dust of the pit edge. Carey produced a water bottle and supported his head. “Slowly, mate. There’s plenty here.”

Dracup drank deeply, his fingers drumming a palsied tattoo on the flask.

Carey watched him with concern. “It’s okay. You’re all right now. You did well.” He steadied Dracup’s hands. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Dracup wobbled to his feet and, allowing the Kiwi to support him, stumbled down a slope of scree and loose rock towards Carey’s jeep. Dracup stole a backward glance before collapsing into the passenger seat, half expecting to see the lion emerging from the pit. Carey revved the engine and dust obscured his view. Dracup took a deep breath, murmured a prayer of thanks and passed out.





In his hotel room Dracup poured himself and Carey a beer. He’d had a few hours sleep and felt calmer. His ribcage was painful but intact; his greatest discomfort was a throbbing headache and sunburn, the worst affected area being his face and shoulders which were raw and blistered. A small thing to endure, he reflected, considering how things might have ended.

It was late afternoon. A crowd of new arrivals had stormed the hotel and woken him from his listless dozing. He’d heard them – a bunch of American kids, clumping around as they vied for tenancy of the best available rooms. Now they’d dumped their gear and gone for a look around the place was quieter. Dracup looked over at Carey, relaxed and sitting astride a chair with his brown forearms resting lightly on the slatted backrest. “So. How did you find me?”

Carey studied his beer and wiped a finger round the rim to settle the foam. “Well, to start off I had a bit of trouble with the jalopy. Seems like the tank did take a little knock during the Battle of Britain yesterday.” Carey took a swig of beer and shrugged. “I had to patch her up as best I could. By the time I’d got it sorted it was too late to get going. So, I decided to look you up. I figured you’d probably be heading back to the hotel by that stage. But there was no sign.”

Dracup nodded and eased himself into a chair.

“So,” Carey continued, “I asked around. One of the kids came with me as far as the path you were seen headed towards. After I parked up he was off, so I had to improvise a bit. Anyhow, I walked on a bit, then I got lucky. I found this.” The New Zealander reached into his pack and produced Dracup’s battered hat.

“Ah.”

“Jammed in a narrow cleft in the hillside. I thought – now what does he want to go poking around in there for? You couldn’t squeeze a cat through the space. But I had a go anyway, seeing as how you’d obviously done it – I’ve got some national pride, y’know. Had a gander about, gave you a shout, then clammed up quick when I saw the opening in the rocks.”

“You were there? In the church?”

“Yep. Quite a place, by my reckoning.”

“You saw what happened?”

“Pretty much.” Carey nodded and cracked his beer can, sending it into the waste bin with a deft flick. “I got myself inside just as the flamin’ door rumbled shut – nearly took my hand off. Then I saw you and the boy – and the others, so I kept myself hidden at the back to see what was going down.”

Dracup listened with fascination. He wiped sweat away from his forehead and flinched at the contact with his sunburnt skin. “Go on.”

“Anyways, when it all got a bit heavy I tuckered down pretty low. I figured there wasn’t much I could do while you were still inside. I waited till they moved you out through the tunnel and sidled up to the altar. I figured I could do you a favour with the old metalwork.”