He spent the rest of the day in his improvised kayak, covering a remarkable distance with no incident and more than compensated for lost time. As evening fell, the water grew rapid. He beached the vessel, confident that his stream would soon join the river. He built a large fire which he started by using the waterlogged mobile that Randall had given him. Whether it had been an intentional gift or not, Noah knew that he could start a quick fire using the phone’s lithium battery. He used his knife to penetrate the battery casing, and the chemical reaction caused by oxygen mixing with the exposed lithium created a brilliant flare of shooting sparks and flames. Soon he had a blaze going that would burn long through the night. With less than an hour of light left, he hunted for crayfish under rocks in the stream. He boiled the shellfish in the tin can he had found the day before and built another branch shelter by moonlight. He spent the rest of the evening eating his fill of crayfish and slept well, vindicated after his earlier failure.
The next day, Noah woke up an hour before sunrise. He dragged his raft several kilometers along the shore, past the rough rapids, to where the stream entered Rio Capota, and set off once again. The river current was swift and much faster than Noah had anticipated, but he managed well enough and, before the day was through, he reached the sleepy town of Parmona. He abandoned the raft and walked to the edge of town, avoiding contact with curious locals, and hunkered down near the small train station to wait for his ride out of it. He fell asleep and almost missed his chance but he hopped on the train just as it pulled away from the platform and hoboed his way toward his destination. A few kilometers from home, he jumped off and spent the wee hours of the morning walking. He crossed the threshold of the front door an hour after dawn and was greeted by his parents and Uncle Randall who had just awakened and were drinking their morning coffee on the back porch.
He received a hero’s welcome as they showered him with congratulatory pats and hugs. Though exhausted, he was thrilled to have accomplished the mission and even beat his deadline by five hours and ten minutes. Over the course of three hard days and nights, Noah was able to cover over 220 kilometers of rugged terrain in the heart of Basque Country. The experience had changed him forever. Never again would he see himself as anything less than a man. With the success of the mission, he saw that he could accomplish anything he set his mind to, including his vast ambitions.
*************
Noah and Max crest the mountain far short of the summit but high enough to get to the other side. The climb was quick but exhilarating, and Max is practically jumping up and down with excitement.
“Will you look at that view!” he shouts, astonished by the scene before them. With both arms outstretched, Max soaks up the rays of the brilliant sun and gazes below at the lush green valleys and the dark cerulean sea.
“It’s marvelous,” Noah agrees. He turns his attention to the other side of the mountain and pulls out his binoculars. The landscape is an endless wilderness as far as his enabled eyes can see; no sign of human life anywhere. Not surprised, he lowers his binoculars and scans the ridge. He spots a wide flat ledge jutting out from the rim of the mountain. “We’ll set up our signal fire there,” he says.
They gather a large pile of brush and timber and, after they construct a pyramid, Noah pulls out a pair of yellow rubber flip-flops retrieved from the luggage pile. “Why are you putting those on the fire?” Max asks.
“The rubber from the flip-flops will make a dense black smoke, which will make our signal fire more visible.”
“Ah, right,” Max nods. “I knew that.”
They finish by building an arrow from loose rocks that points toward their camp. Noah lights the signal fire and the two of them move on to their next task: finding fresh water. Both men have two eight-liter vinyl water bladders in their backpacks, along with a canteen and a couple of plastic water bottles. They figure they can carry enough water to last the group for two days.
On their way down the other side of the mountain Noah asks, “So Max, why was your family headed to New Zealand?”
“That’s funny,” Max replies. “I was going to ask you the same thing.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment and then shrugs. “Since the eruption happened, we’ve been looking for a place to call home, and now that me and my sister have graduated from St. Andrews, my parents are sick of London, so that’s how I guess.”
“I understand,” Noah nods. “But whose idea was it to come here?”
“It was my…” Max starts quickly, and then stops before finishing his sentence. Then he stops walking, nearly causing Noah to run into him. He tilts his head and his eyes drift, and Noah can see his wheels are spinning. “It was Mia,” he admits, obviously shaken.
Noah continues to walk, deciding to play it off. “I see.” Max catches up and says nothing for a couple of minutes before asking, “So, what brought you and Evelyn here?”
Before he can respond, something else catches his attention and he comes to a dead stop, raising his hand in the air to signal a halt. He looks at Max and his eyes widen. “Do you hear that?”
Max stops and listens, his eyes darting back and forth before looking back at Noah with a cheeky grin. “I do!”
The two of them run toward the sound of rushing water that grows louder and louder by the second. When they reach the waterfall, Max lets out a loud roar, smiling from ear to ear. The sight of fresh water is welcome and the view here is just as spectacular. The cascading wall of water is surrounded by a menagerie of color, hues of brilliant orange and pink wildflowers contrasting with the deep emerald greens of the vibrant countryside. Without uttering a word, they peel off their clothes and equipment and recklessly dive into the bubbling water ten meters below them. The water is cold and refreshing, and they carry on as children, splashing and screaming in their own private paradise. When they’ve had their fun, they take their fill of water and head back up to the crest of the mountain where they look for a more direct route down to the others. Noah climbs up a tall mountain beech tree and gazes through his binoculars at the maze of crevices and miles of dense woodland. After an exhaustive search, Noah finds the bypass he was hoping for; what was obstructed from below is clearly visible from his perch, as he follows the winding path that appears to lead almost to the shoreline. He descends the tree and informs Max of their new route. As they head down the mountain, Noah marks the path with wooden sticks stuck in the ground, highlighted with neon green duct tape.
*************
Late afternoon has come to the beach, and the castaways have made significant progress on their shelter and food stores. Hiroshi and his team have finished the cabin, complete with a thatched door that will provide much needed cover during the night. They have even elevated the floor with rows of cut bamboo, a layer of protection from the cold ground as well as the creepy crawlies that pass through in the night. They cover the floor with layers of soft ferns.
Meanwhile, Luna and her team have found several edible plants and flowers and are preparing an exotic salad for the group. Craig and Josette have added to the meal by collecting over a dozen hermit crabs and a slimy sea cucumber that, while loaded with nutrients, is hardly appetizing. Evelyn and Patrick have finished sorting through the luggage and distributing most of the contents among the others; most were in need of a change in clothing and a few were even without shoes. They set aside several jackets and sweaters for the cool nights.
When Noah and Max return, they are greeted with cheers, especially when they share the news of the mountain spring and the walkable path they discovered. Noah is equally impressed by the level of activity and the obvious shift in energy that has taken hold along their narrow strip of beach. He is relieved to see everyone working together as he watches several people pitching in with the preparation of food and others gathering firewood. He unloads his gear and breaks from the greeting party to seek Evelyn’s counsel.
Noah greets his wife outside the tent with a warm smile. “G’day, doctor.”
“G’day, cap
tain,” she responds in kind.
His eyes gesture toward the tent as he places a kiss on her forehead. “How is Jeremy faring?”
“He is doing much better today.” She shifts her eyes from Noah to the sea and begins to walk away, signaling for him to follow. In a lower voice she continues, “He was conscious for awhile today. His name is Jeremy Kane. He was calling for his wife, Jessica, and kept asking about her and insisting that she was with him in the water.”
Noah’s head droops and he shakes it slowly. “What did you say to him?”
“Well, I can only assume he was referring to the woman who was killed by the shark.” She pauses. “What could I say to him, really? I tried to distract him the best I could by asking him questions, but he eventually became despondent. I assume that he started piecing things together.”
“That’s a safe assumption,” Noah agrees. “We will have to tell him the truth if he asks again.”
“I suppose so.” Evelyn frowns, then abruptly changes the subject. “Did you find us some fresh water?”
“I did,” he smiles. “However, it’s far from us, and if we are going to be here for an extended period of time, we need to come up with a better alternative.”
“Agreed. Would you like to hear what we will be dining on this evening?”
“Yes, please, I’m absolutely starving.”
Evelyn turns to face him. “This evening, we will be dining on wild greens from the New Zealand countryside, followed by a delicious entrée of boiled hermit crab and succulent sea cucumber.” Her eyes dance in a playful jest.
“Sea cucumber? Exquisite. You may be interested to know that I have an addition to the menu, as I found several juicy grubs that we can serve up as an appetizer. I will prepare them in some black truffle oil and garlic from our private spice rack, as well as a dash of salt and pepper. It will be sublime!”
“Grubs? Oh that’s just disgusting. I think you may be dining on those alone my love.”
“That may be so. However if we are stuck here for much longer, that may not be the case.”
She rolls her eyes at him. “You’re so Goth, Noah.” She takes a wide view of the campsite before continuing. “At the very least everyone has pulled together. It’s been rather remarkable, actually.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed and I’m impressed.”
Evelyn finds the comment amusing and she laughs aloud. “You? Impressed? Will wonders never cease?”
“Oh, come on. Do you think of me as a monster?”
“Of course not. I just like to ruffle your feathers.” She tugs on his arm. “Come on, let’s get you fed.”
The group gathers for their first meal together, and everyone appears to be wild with hunger, as they eat every last morsel that is offered. To Evelyn’s surprise, Noah’s ghastly concoction of sautéed grubs are finished, and while the majority of them were eaten by Noah and Jacob, several of the others took part as well. During the revelry, Evelyn distributes the mini bottles of scotch, gin, and bourbon, which seem to lift everyone’s spirits. Everyone, that is, except for Jeremy, who, despite making a remarkable recovery and being welcomed warmly by his fellow castaways, spends most of the evening staring into the fire. He makes little effort to interact with the others and eats even less. The feast is filled with conversation and storytelling, with Max narrating the tale of the climb and the beautiful waterfall they found on the other side. Later, Evelyn takes a few moments to recognize the accomplishments of the group, giving accolades to those who went above and beyond in the interest of all. There appears to be a genuine sense of camaraderie among them and, even though their situation is dire, they have all tried to chip in.
As the evening winds down and most of the others withdraw into the shelter, Max and Mia walk alone together on the beach. He wants to speak privately with her, but he doesn’t know how to begin. With both hands buried in his pockets to hide his nervousness, he begins the conversation with idle chitchat until he can no longer avoid what’s been on his mind for hours.
“Mia, I have to ask you something and you have to tell me the absolute truth.”
The setup leaves Mia wary and she responds with only a meek “okay” as she looks at her surroundings on high alert.
“When I was with Noah earlier, he asked me a question that I never really thought about before, but with everything that has happened I need to know.”
“Which is…?” Mia is growing annoyed.
“Why did you suggest that we come here to New Zealand?”
“What?” she snaps.
“You heard the question. Why?”
Her eyes dance with panic. “Uh, I don’t know.” She shrugs, lifting her arms to their surroundings. “The beautiful… unspoiled countryside?”
Max laughs sarcastically. “The countryside, Mia? You fucking hate the outdoors. In fact, the irony is you’re the only one in our family who doesn’t like to be outside. So when you suggested we go to New Zealand, no one was going to protest.” His rant over, he lowers his voice and says slowly, “So I ask you again, why New Zealand?”
“I just told you why, asshole!”
Max tries to remain calm, but he can feel his blood begin to boil. He knows her well enough to know when she is hiding something. He is also painfully aware that she will not tell him shit unless she wants to. He tries a more diplomatic strategy. “Mia, I know that you’re hiding something from me and that’s okay, because God knows you have your reasons. And I am starting to accept that you have feelings or senses or whatever that have probably saved my ass more times than I realize. But after our little conversation on the shuttle, I also realize that you saved us all from the volcano because you knew it was going to happen. Not moments, but weeks before it happened. So why in blue blazes would you bring us here?”
Mia’s face freezes as she avoids making eye contact with Max, her mouth slightly open and her jaw askew. Her arms are folded and she tries very much not to cry. After what seems an eternity, she finally answers. “First of all, I never said I knew about the volcano, and if I had known about it, I would have suggested that you go to Lake Tahoe, while me, Mom, and Dad went to England without you. Secondly, I don’t know what you are suggesting, but if you think for one second that I knew that this fucking shit was going to happen, do you honestly think I would have had us come here?”
Max takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “No Mia, of course not. But come on, just admit it. You must have known something about that volcanic eruption because you were acting batshit crazy for weeks before the ski trip. You were so adamant about us not going there that it couldn’t have been a coincidence. So how could you not know about coming here? I’m not a total moron, am I?”
Mia is shaking, not because she is cold, but because she is about to have a breakdown. Her hands are locked to her sides, clenched into tight fists. She speaks slowly through gritting teeth. “No Max, you’re not a total moron. You’re just half of one.”
And before he can say anything further, she turns her back to him and runs as fast as she can, not wanting him to see the stream of tears running down her face.
Chapter 10
Hiroshi Saito faces the Tasman Sea, his eyes chasing the morning tide. The water is calm and the sky is clear, perfect conditions for an early hunt. Pulsating waves of cool water bury his ankles and then fall effortlessly back into the sea. Wearing only a pair of dark blue swimming trunks and a set of goggles that dangle around his neck, Hiroshi stands at the ready, holding a spear he improvised last night. But before he dives into the sea, his mind drifts with the tide recalling a day that changed his life forever.
Hiroshi was seventeen years old and spearfishing with his brother, Nori, along the coast of Jodgohama Beach in Miyako Bay. They were spending another busy summer hunting for yellowtail, or hiramasa, to sell at the fish markets in town. Fishing was in the family blood, or at least that’s what they were told by their father, who owned Saito Fishing Industries. It was a factual statement, one that could hardly be argued, as
their legacy of fishing spanned seven generations.
Hiroshi was the eldest but only by eleven months, and their sibling rivalry came to the fore when they went fishing. Nori was winning the day easily, having speared several fish while Hiroshi was still waiting for his first catch. All of that was about to change, though, when he saw through the murky depths a flash of gold, exposing what easily was the largest hiramasa he had ever laid eyes on. At over thirty kilograms, this fish eclipsed by threefold anything Nori snared that day. This record fish would not only net them a large sum of money, it would add to the long list of accomplishments held by the Saito family in their rich tradition of fishing.
Hiroshi had the fish in his sights and his finger on the trigger. But something unexpected happened in that moment. Something that would change everything. He never pulled the trigger. He watched as the mammoth yellowtail swam away unscathed. When he surfaced, he faced the wrath of his brother who had witnessed the missed opportunity.
“What happened down there? You had a clear shot. Why didn’t you take it?”
Hiroshi pulled off his goggles and threw them into the small boat that was anchored next to them. “I didn’t want to.”
“What?” Nori asked, baffled. “I don’t understand. What do you mean you didn’t want to?”
Hiroshi treaded the water as he contemplated his actions. Fishing was all that he had ever known but he had always heard a voice inside him that questioned everything. “It means that I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be a fisherman, not now or ever. I’m done. I’m done with this.”