In the sudden silence he said, ‘We’ve got a problem. Tyler’s hurt.’

‘What?’ A jab of adrenaline shot through my veins. ‘How?’

‘He fell off the zipline platform.’

‘Oh, shit.’ That was bad.

‘Matt Spiteri just called in. He says Tyler can’t walk.’

‘Let me warn the office. I’ll tell them to stand by.’

‘Warren’s heading out there now—’

‘I’ll come too.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘It’s my job.’ There were procedures. Emergency plans. I ran back home and called the regional office, then joined Warren on the parade ground. Shaun and Joe were there too.

‘What the hell’s that?’ Shaun demanded, squinting at the rectangular orange bag I was carrying.

‘Foldable stretcher.’ My first-aid kit was tucked into my backpack. ‘We might need it.’

He nodded, then gave me his radio. ‘Take this,’ he said. ‘Keep in touch.’

‘Lifeflight’s coming. My manager’s calling them.’ I gestured at the wide patch of grass surrounding us. ‘They’ll be landing right here. It’s the designated helipad.’

Shaun frowned. ‘Are you sure? What if it’s just a sprain?’

‘Doesn’t matter. We’re none of us trained medics.’ Seeing his troubled expression, I asked, ‘How old is Tyler? Thirteen?’

‘Fourteen,’ said Joe.

‘He’s a child. We need to cover all our bases.’ I jerked my chin at Warren. ‘Let’s go.’

‘I want a running report!’ Shaun yelled after us as we beat a path to the cemetery. Then he must have grabbed Joe’s radio, because I heard it sputter. ‘Sunray blue two, this is red one, over,’ he said.

If there was a reply, I was too far away to hear it.

Warren and I were moving at a very brisk pace when we hit the western fire trail. We didn’t have much breath to spare for talking. But after about five minutes he said, ‘I’ll take the stretcher.’

‘Thanks.’ I passed it to him. ‘Have you told the other kids to come back?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘They’re after their phones, remember? They won’t come back till they’ve got what they want.’ He glanced at me. ‘It’s better if we’re not too distracted while the boys are around.’

He was right. ‘But Shaun’s keeping in touch?’

‘We all are.’ Warren unhooked his radio and raised it to his mouth. ‘Sunray blue two, this is red two, over.’

A buzz of static answered him. He tried again. ‘Sunray blue two, this is red two, over.’

The radio crackled to life. A distorted voice said, ‘Sunray red two, this is…um…this is blue two, over.’

‘Matt? It’s Mr Doyle. I should be with you in about ten minutes, over.’

A wobbly: ‘Okay.’ Poor little Matt. He sounded so young.

‘How’s Tyler? Over.’

‘Okay.’ A brief silence. ‘Over.’

‘Is he conscious? Over.’

‘Yeah.’