The Kadaitcha Curse Page 20
I’ve dragged dad to the edge of the ravine but now I’m disoriented in the darkness. We are at the top of the ravine. I know the cave is across the other side somewhere not too far away. But it is so dark. The tree and the circle of stones are the only landmarks that I can remember. I don't know whether the cave is left, right, or straight ahead on the opposite side.
Another bolt of lightning strikes a small shrub only a few metres away. Again the thought hits me that I'm being deliberately targeted. These lightning strikes are not random. But how can this be. Of course - the metal bed frame! I have to get dad off it. I untie the rope and drag dad away. Another flash, another crash and the bed frame buckles in a shower of sparks.
In a panic I drag dad over the edge of the ravine and we both tumble to the bottom.
No damage done. At least not to me. Dad could be dead for all I know but I'm not going to stop to find out just yet. But I think again. Maybe here in the ravine we are safe. With no metal to attract the lightning, we might be better off staying put.
This thought lasts about five seconds until another bolt smashes into the ground only metres away. I scream and throw myself over dad. I don't know whether that was to protect him or whether I was subconsciously hoping he would protect me.
Another flash. This one doesn't make contact, but it lights the sky just enough for me to see the white bird flapping in the scrub on the opposite wall of the ravine.
"This is really weird," I think to myself. Then out loud, "OK, you haven't let me down so far." I haul dad across the small clearing to where I spotted the bird.
And there it is! The entrance to the cave. My arm is bleeding profusely. All at once I start to feel weak. I check the phone again but there is no reception. I resist the urge to throw the useless gadget away. Maybe when the storm passes reception will improve. I just hope it’s not too late for dad. Or for me.
With every bit of strength I have left I pull hard on dad’s arms and drag him inside the cave to safety. I check again that he’s still breathing. He is. But it’s more of a gurgle and a wheeze. It doesn’t sound at all good to me. It might be some river water clogging his lungs or it might be something a lot more serious. His body is still trembling. I lean against the wall of the cave. It’s dark and I’m starting to shiver. The air is cold but it’s more than that. I’m not sure if it’s my body reacting to my injury, or if it’s just that I’m dead scared. But I do know that I have to get us both warm.
I swear at myself for not thinking far enough ahead. No torch, no matches. I have to get back to the camp. There are matches in the car and the torch…I’ve completely lost track of that; it could be anywhere. Anyway, a torch would be a luxury. Matches are a matter of life and death.
I crawl out of the cave just as it starts to rain. It gets heavy quickly. I make my way carefully to other side of the ravine but it’s difficult to get a grip on the wet slope even though I’m down on all fours. The rain is very heavy and as if using my arm to climb was not painful enough, the pelting rain feels like someone is cruelly training a fire hose directly on my wound. I’m about half way up when the rock my foot is pushing against gives way and in a second I’m back at the bottom, more than likely in the same spot that dad and I landed earlier.
I stumble along the ravine almost totally blind hoping to find a better place to climb out. The rain stops as quickly as it started.
This makes it a little easier to see, but not much. My arm feels like it’s only hanging by a thread of skin. With no rain, the night is relatively silent. No lightning, no thunder, no wind. But there is a sound…like a distant stream. And it’s quickly getting louder.
Then I realise the danger I’m in. The ravine is a water course and I’m about to be caught in a flash flood. I run to the side and try again to crawl out. Again I slip back. The noise of the pending flood is getting closer and more threatening. I can’t climb so I have to run. I think I might be able to reach the cave. The entrance is only about a metre higher than the floor of the ravine but the cave gets a little higher towards the back. We might get wet but at least we won’t drown. I hope.
It’s so dark and my vision is very blurred as well. I shake my head to clear it. That doesn’t help. The cave? Where is it?
I realise too late that in my panic I have overrun it. There is no going back. I just have to keep running. The water is gaining on me. It sounds like it’s a ten metre high wall of death but in reality I know it’s probably a lot less - a metre, maybe two at most. At a metre I might be safe just grabbing hold of a tree until the water passes. But two metres, even a metre and a half, that’s another thing. It could sweep me off me feet and then I’m at its mercy. And for all I know this ravine could lead to a waterfall. I could end up at the bottom of the mountain, dead.
I am running as fast as I can just waiting for fate to play its final hand. But there’s another noise as well, one I’ve never heard before. A high-pitched squealing. And it’s not far behind me. The pigs! It has to be the pigs. They must have been in the ravine sheltering from the lightning when the storm started. Now we are in all in the same predicament. Dad said they were dangerous but I’m confident that dinner is the last thing on their mind at the moment. I keep running, falling, running again. Even on the smooth rocks every step seems to cut into my bare feet.
Then I see a chance. There is a huge boulder about fifteen metres in front of me. At that point the ravine splits into two separate water courses. I notice that the course on the left seems to slope slightly upwards. With a little luck the water will divide at this point and its force will be halved. With a lot of luck most of the water will go to the right and I’ll be safe.
I take the left option and immediately regret my decision. This is a dead end. About twenty metres farther into this ravine another huge boulder forms a natural dam. If the water, even half of it, comes in this direction it could smash me against the rock or it could quickly bank up and I could drown.
I desperately try to find a place to clamber out of the ravine. But I can’t. It’s impossibly slippery and I am virtually one-armed.
And now I have company. Two of the ugliest creatures I ever seen have followed my lead. A second later the water flashes past. It floods the first five or so metres of my sanctuary but mostly it flows just as I had hoped. It’s gone in half a minute.
I’m not even sure the pigs know I’m here. I wait as still as possible, blood running down my arm and dripping off my fingers. The sound of the water fades into the distance. The pigs have their backs to me but one sniffs the air. The other does the same. They can smell my blood. They turn around, confused at first, but then they see me.
Their snorting is low and threatening. I try not to move, hoping against hope that they might decide that they have mistaken me for a tree that just happens to look and smell like a big piece of fresh, bleeding meat.
They move slowly. They’re only pigs, I tell myself. Maybe I can just chase them off. But no pigs I’ve ever seen have tusks like that. They come closer still. I think of trying to startle them by running at them. At the last second I could do a side step and get past them. Who am I kidding? I’m barely able to walk anymore. I’ve lost so much blood. I console myself with the thought that it will all be over in a minute. It will be painful, I know, but only a minute.
I slump hopelessly onto the ground. Sensing my defencelessness one huge boar runs straight at me.
I close my eyes. I hear a savage growl and a guttural squeal but feel nothing. I look up to see Angel’s jaws clamped like a vice around the throat of the leading pig. It thrashes about ferociously but Angel is too clever to be gored by this beast. Slowly the feral monster gives up the fight. The other pig has run off. Angel releases its grip and turns to me as though reassuring herself that I’m safe. Her white face is soaked red with the blood of its hapless victim. Then with an ominous snarl she takes off in pursuit of the other pig. Less than thirty seconds passes before I hear the high pitched squeal. It lasts a full minute. T
hen silence.
I pull myself to my feet and head back towards the cave. I didn’t realise how far I’d run and with frequent rests to regain some strength it takes me a full half hour to reach my father.
He is still breathing. Still muttering about the bones.
“Bury the bones. You have to bury the bones.”
“What bones!” I scream at him. “There are no bones! There are no bones!” I know he can’t hear me.
His skin is cold. As cold as death. I need a blanket and a fire. But I know that it’s almost too late already. His heart beat is so slow and weak that I can barely feel it. I can only hope that he can last until I get back.
I try again to climb out of the ravine. I’m more rested now and less panicky. I slip back a couple of times but not all the way and eventually crawl out at the top. Small victories, I console myself.
As I stagger towards camp I think of the dog. How did it get here? Did it follow us from the house? And most importantly, where is it now?
Stumbling into camp, I go directly to the car and find the matches straight away. I collect my sleeping bag from where I had thrown it, a few metres from the now charred remains of our tent.
I reach in under the car to where I had stowed dry kindling and pull out handfuls of sticks and small blocks. I stuff as much of it into the sleeping bag as I can manage and start dragging it back to towards the cave.
I don’t think I can recover from another uncontrolled tumble down into the ravine so I toss the bag over first and follow slowly and carefully.
Please, Dad, keep breathing, I’m almost there.
I drag the bag up into the pitch dark cave. I fumble in my pocket for the matches and strike one against the match box. Damn! Stop trembling, Robbie!
I try again. The cave lights up. At first I can’t make sense of what I’m seeing. The match dies out. I light another. It’s Angel. She is lying almost on top of my father’s body. I feel dad’s skin. He’s warmed up a little. Angel has given me some time.
“Good girl.” I give the dog a hug and then quickly go about trying to light a fire.
Amazingly it only takes me a couple of minutes to have a decent blaze. I put some small logs on top so it can look after itself for a while. Dad is moaning about the bones again. I don’t get angry this time but I feel his skin. Yes, Angel has given us time, but that is all. And that time will soon run out.
Tears well in my eyes. I wanted this holiday. I made dad come. And this is what happens. I forced him to spend more time with me. And now, because of me, he’s going to die.
I lean against the wall and close my eyes. The closest thing to a positive thought that I can conjure up is that at least I won’t have to face my family as a failure. But that’s only because I’m going to die here as well.
Dad starts to toss violently and call out. I open my eyes to find that Angel has gone. The storm has started up again. Lightning is hitting the trees and the ground. I move farther towards the rear of the cave.
“Bury the bones!” Dad’s voice is becoming more urgent. He’s rolling around, almost convulsing.
Another flash makes ground contact right at the entrance lighting up the entire inside of the cave. I’m not sure what I saw. I wish I had the torch. Another flash. I see it again. Those white sticks I thought I saw yesterday. Another flash.
They aren’t sticks!