Warren waited. But apparently Matt had lost his usual urge to babble on, so Warren tried again. ‘How’s Dean? Over.’

There was a pause. ‘Not very good,’ Matt said at last.

‘Can I talk to him? Over.’

Another pause—longer, this time. ‘No.’

‘Why? What’s he doing? Over.’

‘Kicking a tree.’ Raucous static. ‘And screaming.’

Warren grimaced. ‘Roger that. Tell him we’ll be there soon. Tell him there’s going to be a helicopter. Does he like helicopters? Over.’

The answer was quick this time. ‘How should I know?’

‘Not long now, mate.’ Warren’s tone was sympathetic. ‘Hang in there. You’re a champion. Over and out.’

We’d reached the cemetery and were picking our way through the graves. ‘Poor kid,’ I said.

‘Yeah.’ Warren looked sour. I didn’t blame him. This wasn’t good for anyone—not for me, not for the veterans, not for Tyler. His parents wouldn’t be pleased.

I wondered if I was witnessing the end of Vetnet.

Suddenly Warren’s radio sprang to life again. ‘Sunray red two, this is red one, over.’ Shaun’s voice was barely recognisable.

Warren pressed transmit. ‘Sunray red one, this is red two. We’re ten minutes out, over.’

‘Roger that.’ A spray of static. ‘We just heard something from Matt. He says Tyler tried to push him down the zipline stairs. Over.’

I stopped in my tracks. ‘Wait,’ I stammered. ‘Was that—did he—?’

Warren’s pace was slowing. ‘Clarify, red one—did you say Tyler tried to push Matt downstairs? Over.’

‘Roger that. He says Dean intervened and there was a scuffle, during which Tyler fell. It was an accident. Over.’

Warren had halted. He turned to look at me. Then he cleared his throat. ‘What was the fight about? Over.’

‘Matt says there wasn’t a fight. Tyler attacked him out of the blue.’ A pause, during which Warren and I began to move again, tramping through the long grass. When Shaun finally continued, his voice was halting and muffled. ‘Tyler was hoping a serious injury might close the camp. He wants to get home to his sister. He says she’s not safe. Over and out.’

In the silence that followed, I could hear a distant, high-pitched screech. But it was only a cockatoo.

2009

2009

AARON DIDN’T COME to school on Thursday. Neither did Joyce or Mitch. I spoke to Howard at lunchtime.

‘It’s a bloody mess,’ he admitted. ‘Joyce says she won’t send Aaron unless we ban Mitch, so I’ve done that now. I also told her it’s against the law to keep a kid home from school.’ He sighed as he checked his watch. ‘At this point I just wish the whole lot of them would knock each other off, but I suppose that’s why they pay me the big bucks—to put up with lunatic parents.’

Then we discussed Caleb.