‘It’s crazy to say it now, but it was like walking into a bubble . . . All the noise stopped. The birds, the wind. I couldn’t hear anything except my own footsteps, and they were so loud . . .’ She took a shaky breath. ‘I got scared. I’ve never felt so scared in my life. It wasn’t even normal, I was running – it was like I was running for my life.’ She grunted, tears now running down her cheeks. ‘It sounds so stupid!’

‘Eliza, what happened?’

‘I don’t know! I don’t know! I kept walking, shouting, until – something hit me on the head? I remember waking up in bare feet – one of the other girls, Carmen, she was the one who found me. I told her to run back to safety, but she came back with Jack. They found me under a flower bush further down the track, I was curled up and vomiting. I don’t remember how I got there, but I remember them finding me. The doctors say I was vomiting because I was concussed. They brought me back to the bus, and that’s when they called . . . everyone. It feels like . . . I can’t explain it, but things just went so weird up there . . .’

Murphy felt a pain in his hands. He looked down to see his knuckles were white from clenching so tight. ‘Who hit you? Did you see them?’ he asked.

‘No,’ said Eliza, her voice full of pain. ‘I didn’t see a thing.’

CHAPTER 8

CON

In the room next door, scratching his stubble and listening to every word, Con glanced at Gabriella.

‘The sounds on the mountain went quiet . . .?’ he said.

Gabriella looked excited. ‘You go in,’ she said. ‘I want to google something real quick.’

‘Google what?’

‘Just go, Con.’

He stood up, leaving his phone and the earphones with her.

When he walked into Eliza’s room, all eyes turned to him. ‘G’day, everyone,’ he said pleasantly. He flashed his badge, then nodded to Eliza. ‘Sorry I’m late. Had to sort a few things out. My name is Detective Con Badenhorst, but you can call me Con. Murphy, can you give us the room please?’ He smiled at the nurse. ‘I’m sure the hospital can find you something to eat.’

He felt Murphy’s jacket, reaching into the pocket with one hand as he gripped the collar with his other. ‘This is still soaked. Want me to find a heater and dry it off?’

‘Get off me!’ Murphy pushed his hands away and Con pocketed the voice recorder. The nurse took hold of Murphy, leading him out of the room.

‘Hey, we’re not done,’ protested Murphy, even as the door clicked shut behind them.

Con sat down in the chair beside Eliza’s bed.

‘Have they found them?’ she begged, her bloodshot eyes searching his. ‘Anything at all?’