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Chapters (60)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. Acknowledgements
  59. About the author
  60. Copyright

The old man nodded for his youngest son to go on ahead. Only after a second, firmer insistence did he go, the roles switched, the boy acting as his father’s guardian rather than the other way around.

Free now, Arthur walked alongside Chandler in silence for a few seconds before he sniffed a choked laugh. ‘We’re all a lot like Martin, you know.’

‘How so?’ said Chandler, peering into the scrub beside him, expecting nothing and finding exactly that.

‘Out here . . . slowly getting lost. We’re all no more than one, maybe two hours from walking into the wilderness and disappearing.’

Chandler’s concern for Arthur’s mental well-being grew. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘It’s the truth.’

‘If you’re not feeling okay . . . ?’

The old man shook his head. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me apart from the blisters and the sunburn. It’s just the weariness talking, the finding nothing, stepping on the dead every step we take: dead plants, dead animals, dead earth.’

He turned to face Chandler. ‘I know you don’t want me offering prayers and blabbering on, but they have nothing to do with motivating the others. They’re about motivating me.’

Chandler watched Arthur pace off to join his son. Then he took up station at the rear with Mitch.

‘It’s time to call this off, Mitch.’

His partner was incredulous. ‘What? It’s only been two weeks.’

‘Yeah and the dad’s about to collapse, the boy’s practically a zombie, more volunteers are quitting every day. I’m more a grief counsellor than policeman.’

‘We’ll go on as long as the family want to try.’

‘That’s not realistic and you know it.’

‘Are you going to tell him?’ asked Mitch and leaned in closer. ‘If we find him, then his death will result in something positive, it will mean something.’

Chandler shook his head. ‘To you. It already means something to that family.’

‘Yeah,’ replied Mitch, ‘but if we give up now it was all a bit pointless, wasn’t it? Walking into the unknown. And don’t give me that newspaper shit about a soon-to-be adult going on Walkabout. A Walkabout has meaning to it, not just a depressed kid seeking annihilation.’

‘You say that, but you didn’t know him, maybe this was his Walkabout, his transformation into an adult.’

‘Is that what Teri’s going to do to you? Turn you into an adult?’

‘Let it go, Mitch.’

Mitch shook his head. ‘Giving up on life.’

‘No, the opposite.’

‘You can’t be sure of that, Chandler. Not ’til you’ve gone through it.’

23

The light was fast disappearing, but Mitch had come prepared, his team erecting a series of searchlights around the site. Chandler watched from the sidelines as more scraps of metal and paper were sifted from the ash, fingers black with soot, searching for the tiniest shard of evidence that could definitively point to what had happened here.